No Fate But That Which We Make Ourselves
by IWantColouredRain
Summary: When John Connor is captured by Skynet, it seems like his worst nightmare come to life. Instead, it becomes a second chance, for himself, his mother and the world. And maybe even his father too.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. Okay, confession time. I loved Terminator Genisys, especially the family dynamic between the Connors and Kyle, and that Kyle survived. John's fate broke my heart, so I decided to do my own. Another awesome rewrite of Genisys, if anyone else wants a similar story, is 'The Future is Never Set' by Shraider. I highly recommend it. Anyway, enjoy! 18/4/2019: Updated the story to make it flow better. **

* * *

**Chapter One**

_**Mexico, **__**February 28**_ _**1985 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah had always assumed, in the back of her mind, that one day she would be a mother. It was just one of those things. The sky is blue, she was allergic to apples and one day she would be a mother._

_But she had also thought that she would be a wife at the time, that her husband would be at her side as she gave birth in a hospital, pumped up on painkillers while her mother gave her encouraging advice. She'd thought she be finished college, working as a journalist like she'd always planned on, too. She'd wanted to be older, to be settled. Of course, her dad had always said that if you wanted to make God laugh, you told him your plans._

_The reality was a stark difference to her plans. Instead of being in her mid-to-late twenties with a husband and her mother at her side in a hospital, she was nineteen, voluntarily on the run, and giving birth in an abandoned house that she'd found a few days before going into labour and managed to wash bedroom as best she could. And, of course, she was alone._

_Her mother and lover were both dead, neither of them ever getting the chance to learn of her pregnancy, and Sarah hadn't dared to risk contacting a midwife for help. She had only gone to the bare minimum of check-ups, each time at a different hospital or clinic and using a different alias. After all, if Skynet could send one Terminator after her, who said that he wouldn't send another? Kyle had mentioned it might happen when he'd been telling her what to do if he was killed, and when would there be a better opportunity to attack them than during her labour? She and John would never be more vulnerable then right now, with John a defenceless baby in the process of being born, and she so wracked with agony and exhaustion that her vision was going grey. It would've been different if Kyle was still alive. Then they could've at least contacted a midwife even if she didn't go to a hospital, knowing that he'd protect their son. But Kyle was dead, and Sarah couldn't trust anyone when the fate of humanity was at stake. When the life of her and Kyle's son was at stake._

_She blacked out several times, each time waking up when Bruno, the dog whom she had left tied up just outside the door, on guard, barking. Every time, she jolted up, reaching for her pistol and aiming it at the door, shaking from the effort of lifting the gun and the contractions that were still on-going. Finally, some instinct made her start to push, and she lost all sense of time as she laboured to bring her son into the world._

_It seemed to take forever before the pain, didn't disappear, but dulled, and the sound of a baby crying reached her ears. Forcing herself to ignore the exhaustion and pain, Sarah lifted herself up and staggered, leaning heavily on the bed for support, to her son, lying on the towel she had laid there._

_The sight of him made her breath disappear. He was tiny, so tiny that she guessed that she could fit his entire body in both of her palms. She immediately loved him more anybody else. Even more than she'd loved Kyle, during their short time together. She'd loved him since she'd learned of his existence, but now he was **real**. Her son. John Kyle Connor. There was no question of his name. John Connor was the name Kyle had given for him, and if he couldn't have his father's surname, then __at least__ he'd have his first one._

_But that wasn't the thing that made a sob break out of her mouth was not the thought that his father would never know his son, nor even the terrifying thought that he would grow up to survive a nuclear apocalypse and be the leader of what little remained of humanity. It was the fact that even now, she could tell that he had his father's nose._

* * *

_**Los Angeles, 2029**_

John left the control room and strode down the dark, pipe-lined hallway, hearing Kyle hurrying behind to catch up to him. Tonight was the night. Within hours, the war would be won. The plan was sound. John knew that they'd win, but it wasn't the battle that he dreaded.

"Sir, requesting to join the Colorado offensive," the twenty-five-year-old sergeant stated once he had almost gotten level with the resistance leader.

"Need you with me, Reese," John replied. Good old Kyle, always willing to volunteer for the riskiest missions. He was too brave and caring for his own good. Sarah had always said that the people who cared the most were the ones that died first.

"We're talking about the complete destruction of Skynet, sir," Reese protested, his voice tight.

John stopped walking, turning to give the younger man a firm look as he spoke, his conviction coming through clearly in his tone. "The Colorado unit _will_ succeed. The machines _will_ fall tonight. But right here, the Los Angeles assault is just as important, maybe more."

Kyle gave him a disbelieving look. "More important than destroying the Skynet's central core?" he asked doubtfully, he stepped closer, losing his formality and finally asking what everyone had no doubt been wondering since John had announced that Perry would be leading the attack on NORAD, while he attacked the LA work camp.

"John, I don't understand why you're leading an attack on a work camp."

John sighed, glancing to the side for a minute as he debated with himself mentally. Finally, he decided on most of, if not the entire, truth. "Because the camp is a camouflage," he revealed, making Kyle's eyes widen. "Inside the camp is a hangar. Beneath that hangar Skynet has hidden its' final weapon. When Skynet realises that it's lost, it will deploy that weapon to ensure its' own survival. We take it tonight, or there is no tomorrow." A far more literal statement than Kyle could currently realise.

Reese straightened his spine, his expression hardening with determination. "Then we'll take it," he declared.

John gave a small chuckle that quickly faded off. He gave Kyle a carefully-neutral look. "You're my right hand, Reese, and I've never thanked you for it," he murmured.

"You don't need to," Kyle insisted. "You gave us all a future, John. I'm gonna use mine. When this is all over, I'm gonna find my parents' house. Rebuild it. Use my hands for something other than killing. How about you?"

Hearing Kyle's plans for the future, a life without war, hit John harder than he hoped showed. He swallowed and glanced away, thinking over the question. He couldn't come up with an answer. Sarah had always made sure he didn't get any dreams for what he wanted to do growing up. He was going to be the saviour of humanity, and having dreams might hamper his ability to do it. He had been raised solely to be a soldier. And Kate, the only woman he had ever loved, was fourteen-years dead, taking his unborn child with her. They had taken any hopes for happiness and peace after the war that he might've had with them. John had no idea what he would do once the three-decade-long war was over, but he needed to say something before the silence grew uncomfortable.

"A cold beer would be good," he croaked out.

Kyle gave a gentle smile. "Those are some pretty big plans," he said lightly, clapping John on the arm.

John shrugged. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I don't think about it too much."

"I can see that," Kyle answered. "Well, I figure, whatever happens, it's got to be better than this."

John was silent, looking at the ground. Was it? He wanted to ask. Will you still think that in three days when you die to save my mother? Had having a few days with Sarah made Kyle's sacrifice worth it to him? Had he ever wondered if that night they spent together, hunted and hurting, had resulted in more than Sarah loving him? Had he realised that John had sent him back, not to die, but so that everyone else could live? John had wondered about the answers to those questions a billion times since his childhood, and he knew that he would never get answers. Chances were, Kyle would die unaware of the truth, and John hated that. Not for the first time, he wished that Sarah had never told him who Kyle was to him.

He didn't say any of that of course. But he knew that he had to apologize, even if Kyle wouldn't understand it yet. Possibly not ever.

"So many of us have died to get here," he sighed, seeing confusion flicker in Kyle's eyes at his cryptic words. "I want you to know, Kyle, if there was another way, I would have taken it." With that, he turned and continued on to the main hall, where he could hear his name being chanted.

He ran over his pre-prepared speech as he made his way through the crowd of soldiers and hopped up onto the truck-bed so he could be seen by everyone._ "Every leader needs to be charismatic, so that he's able to rally people to him if he wants to be successful,"_ Sarah had told him when she'd been teaching him to be a leader. _"They need to **believe** in you John. You have to make them trust that you can save them. That's just as important as doing it in the first place."_

He exhaled subtly, then began to speak, silently reminding himself that he was right. Sarah had told him everything she knew about the war, and the date that they defeated Skynet was one of those things. This was it. The end of the war had finally arrived.

"The machine thinks that we cannot win!" he began, looking around to meet the eyes of his soldiers. "The machine thinks that we will not strike at the very heart of Skynet! Yet, here we stand, on the precipice of the final battle. If we die tonight, mankind dies with us.

I look at each of you, and I see the marks of this long and terrible war. We fight for our children, for our children's children, so they will not carry these marks. But they will know who we are and what we did. That we did not bow down! We did not give in! We rose up, at this moment, at this hour, willing to sacrifice everything so that they can live in freedom!

On this night, we take back our world!"

The end of his speech was met with a cheer that seemed loud enough to make the bunker shake, before the group began splitting up to join their assigned teams.

John waited a moment, taking another deep breath and reminding himself that it was almost over. One more battle, and the world was saved. Just one more.

"John?" he glanced to his side at Kyle, annoyed at himself for being so lost in his thoughts that he had failed to notice the sergeant coming up to him. Sarah would've been furious with him for being caught off-guard. Rule Number Two: Always be on your guard, was possibly even more important than Rule Number One: Don't trust anyone. John had always had problems with that one. Sarah had often despaired over his 'too-gentle heart', blaming it on his father. Over the years, John had come to realise that she was right about that. Not that that was much of a surprise, of course. Sarah was always right, it seemed.

"Are you ready to move out, sir?" Concern flickered in Reese's eyes, and John swallowed heavily. He was going to miss Reese.

"Let's go," he replied, adjusting the weight of his rifle as he strode past the younger man.

* * *

Hours later, the battle was over. The machines had fallen, as John had known they would. But the victory had come moments too late.

"We found it, Sir," Major Amanda Regan, informed him as he walked up to the hanger where the time displacement device was. "Exactly where you said that it would be."

John lit his torch, angling it to let them all see the egg-shaped structure.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Kyle asked, leaning in to see it better.

"It's the first tactical time weapon," John answered, feeling a tiredness that seemed to go straight to his bones as he flung his torch into the hanger, illuminating the machine. "And Skynet just used it."

He jumped down himself a second later, his soldiers following as the Tech-Com members began setting up their own machinery.

"Power it up," he ordered as they began setting up their equipment quickly.

"We'll need 15 minutes to ready the machine, sir," Amanda replied as she tapped at a computer. "We're running coordinates, we should have them for you momentarily."

"Los Angeles, 1984," he muttered absently, his gazed fixed on the device, though he wasn't seeing it. The image floating in front of his mind's eye was that of his mother, tired frown fixed on her lips.

"Los Angeles, May 12, 1984," she said a second later.

Everyone glanced at him, and he knew that they were wondering yet again how he knew what he did. But if they hadn't put together the time travel device and the fact that Sarah Connor had known about the threat of Skynet years before anyone realized it existed, then he wasn't going to say anything.

"Skynet knew it was losing, so it tried to rig the game," he explained instead. "It sent a terminator back to the time before the war."

"Who's the target?" Colonel Dane Souza, a grizzled veteran who'd been just out of Marine Basic Training when Judgment Day had occurred, asked.

"My mother," John replied, causing a series of gasps and swearing to ripple quietly through the group. He spotted a horrified look flash over Kyle's face as he elaborated. "Sarah Connor. If the machine succeeds, I'll never be born. They'll kill her first. And by doing so, erase every victory we've fought for, including tonight's. There won't be a resistance to challenge the machines. With this one act, Skynet will win."

"We can use the technology ourselves, send someone back to protect her," Dane suggested.

"We don't even know if that'll work," Captain Blair Williams pointed out.

_Yes, I do, _John thought. _It's just that it's a suicide mission, and one that ends with my mother's broken heart and the weight of the world on her shoulders, and me destined to save everybody._ He didn't say that either, staying silent and listening to the various shouts of "I'll go! I'll go, sir!" Part of him wanted to go himself, to see Sarah again. He knew he couldn't though. Despite Sarah's claims, fate _did_ exist, and this was it.

Then came the one that he'd been waiting for and dreading.

"I'll volunteer!" John turned to look at Kyle with a neutral expression as the sergeant stepped forward, looking determined. "I'll go back."

Logically, it was a bad idea. Kyle had been born after Judgment Day, and while he knew in theory what life was like before the war, John knew from his mother that he had stuck out like a sore thumb. But obvious logic wasn't why he would be sending him back. He was sending Kyle back so everyone could live. So he could be born, and his mother be burdened with two very different, and very heavy types of responsibility. He was sending his father to die, and orchestrating his mother's traumatization and broken heart, in the name of saving the world. 'And the Award for the Worst Son in History goes to: John Connor' he thought with a dark sarcasm he picked up from Sarah. He didn't want to do this, but he would.

Still, he had to put on a show, though he already knew Kyle would be the one to go. "Why should I send _you_ over all of _them_?"

"Because I'd die for Sarah Connor," Kyle replied, completely serious.

John recalled Sarah telling him of Kyle's sacrifice. It was the only time he had ever heard his mother's voice shake. "All these people would die for Sarah Connor," he pointed out, sweeping out an arm to emphasize his point. "What makes you any different?"

"You know why," Kyle stepped forward, a stubborn and pleading look on his face. "Everything you've told me about her. I _know_ her, John. Let me save her."

John sighed, and nodded. "Alright," he agreed. The only, cold comfort that he could find was that Kyle wasn't in love with an idealized version of Sarah Connor. John had told him both the good things and the bad. The only thing he hadn't told him was that the man that she had grieved over for the rest of her life, his father, was Kyle himself.

The decision made, people quickly began getting to work, powering up the time travel machine and taking measurements of the quantum energy field.

"You won't be able to take any weapons with you," Blair informed Kyle, earning herself a look of dismay from the sergeant.

"No weapons?" he repeated.

"We've measured the magnetic field," Blair explained. "It'll rip apart anything not encased in living tissue. Think tinfoil in a microwave times a few billion. Nothing left but a crater." Accepting his rifle and handgun, she began to walk away before pausing to glance back. "Oh, by the way. No clothes, either."

Kyle grimaced and began to pull off his armour. "Great," he grumbled. "She's going to think I'm crazy." He glanced at John, who was sitting silently at his side. "You knew that the device would be here. You knew when it'd be set for. You knew the machines would fall tonight. Just before I go, tell me..."

John tensed slightly, wondering if Kyle had finally figured it out. "Tell you what?"

Kyle leaned slightly. "Can you see the future?"

John let out a soft snort of amusement. "No one can see the future, Reese," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Okay, well then how do you _know_?"

John sighed and stood, helping Kyle lift his armour off. "I cheat," he explained. "Sarah told me so much. Gave me signposts. When I was a kid, it seemed like my mother knew everything."

"Must've been great," Kyle commented.

John was quiet for a moment, thinking back to his mother, her constant reminders of his destiny and the impending apocalypse. Her ever-present stress and grief, and the way he could sometimes overhear her sobbing in despair over the future in their various tents and trailers when she thought he was asleep. How nothing he ever did seemed good enough for her, despite how much she had loved him. _'The best isn't good enough John,' _she told him a billion times. _'Everything is depending on you.'_

No, he would say a lot of things about his mother's knowledge, but he'd never say that it was _great_. "Not really," he told Kyle. "It stops here. Once you go back, my knowledge ends. That's as much as Sarah knew."

"So no more cheating," Kyle nodded in understanding.

John gave a half-smile that probably didn't reach his eyes. "No more cheatin'."

Kyle pulled off his shirt, and an old photo fell from his breast pocket onto the ground. It was singed, faded and torn, but the scene, and the woman whom it was centred around, were still easily seen.

Eighteen-year-old Sarah Connor stared into the distance, unaware of the picture being taken. Her brunette hair was held out of her face by a headband and one hand rested on her six-months-pregnant stomach which was covered by a dark green dress. A large German Shepherd sat in the seat beside her, and the expression on her face was filled with a tired grief that John had always associated with her talking about his father.

Kyle gave him a sheepish and anxious look as John picked up the photo, gazing down at Sarah. "The time you're going back to, she won't be the warrior that raised me, not yet," he told his friend. "She'll be scared and weak. She won't know how to fight or defend herself. Her biggest worry is making rent and tuition. She's a waitress."

Sarah had always sounded bitterly contemptuous when she described herself prior to May 1984. John knew that she believed that if she had been stronger, if she had been quicker or smarter or _something_, Kyle would've lived. Maybe she was right, but at the end of the day, the events of those few days had shaped her into the legendary 'Mother of the Resistance'.

"A what?" Kyle asked blankly, drawing John back to the present, out of his memories.

He chuckled softly. "A... Never mind. Just be ready for the fact that she will need you, but she won't know it."

"Okay, so what do I say to her?" Kyle asked, furrowing his eyebrows worriedly. "Even when I tell her who I am, she's not gonna believe me."

John sighed, easily coming up with the needed words. Sarah had whispered them against the shell of his ear every night when he was a child, telling them like a bedtime story. She'd been more regular about telling him the message than reading him the Wizard of Oz in Spanish or singing him Rocketman in her awful singing voice.

"Tell her this... Thank you, Sarah, for your courage during the dark years. I can't help you with what you must soon face, except to say the future is not set. There is no fate but that which we make for ourselves. You must be stronger than you imagine you can be. You must survive, or I will never exist."

Kyle repeated the message solemnly, giving a grave nod before the two of them made their way to the now-ready time travel device.

"Take care of her for me, Kyle," John said, as Kyle began climbing onto the podium.

"I will," Reese vowed. "I promise you."

John smiled proudly at him as blue light lit up the gaps in the machine. "What you're doing right now, this is the end of the war," he told him.

Kyle nodded, but a second later his expression turned horrified. "JOHN!" he bellowed in warning as he disappeared, his voice mingling with the sound of a gunshot from behind him. John was seconds too slow to turn, reaching for his holstered gun just as his world went black.

* * *

When John stirred back to life, his throat, wrists and ankles were all secured to a bed. His eyes snapped open and he began struggling against the restraints that were holding him down.

"You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" a voice came from his left.

John flicked his gaze to the right, seeing one of the 'soldiers' who'd been in the room when they'd sent Kyle back in time. Other that, John couldn't recall ever seeing him before, and he cursed himself for being so distracted with Kyle that he hadn't been tipped off by that. Despite Sarah having often advised him not to let himself care about people as it would only hurt him when he'd died, John had never been able to cut himself off as much as he'd wanted to. He knew everyone in Tech-Com by name, and most others by sight at least. If he hadn't been so distracted by the fact that he was about to lose Kyle, he would've realized that something was off about the 'man'.

"_Rule number two: always be on your guard,"_ he remembered Sarah telling him. And yet, in the hour of victory, about to lose Kyle forever, John had broken that rule, and it had cost him dearly.

"Who are you? What did you do to my soldiers?" he demanded bitterly. He narrowed his eyes at the 'soldier'. "Or is it _what_ are you? Are you a Terminator? What's your directive? How are you still active, when we destroyed Skynet's central core?"

"You're not exactly in the position to be making demands, General Connor," the reply was mild and unconcerned. "However, I shall answer you anyway. I am Skynet."

John recoiled on instinct, and suppressed a shudder at Skynet's response of loud laughter.

"No," John denied. "We destroyed your core. You can't be Skynet."

Skynet sneered at him mockingly, triumph seeming to dance in its' eyes. How was that even possible? John wondered. Skynet was a machine. How could it have emotions? Maybe it was just mimicking them or something.

"The soldiers who were with you are dead," Skynet continued, unaware or uncaring of the grief that flashed over the resistance leader's expression at the news, though he'd guessed already. "However others remain in your Resistance bases, though not for long."

John glared at him bitterly. "I'll never tell you where the bases are," he declared. "I'll die first."

"You have no choice," Skynet answered him passively. "When the procedure is finished, you will _want_ to tell me."

"Procedure?" John repeated, dread in his voice. "What are you talking about?"

"I have been working on rewriting a human's genetic code on a cellular level using nano-resin. You won't be human nor will you be machine. You'll be something more. The perfection of the machine combined with the creativity of the human, though unhampered by a human's emotions. It will be glorious."

It didn't sound glorious to John. It sounded sickening. "Why haven't you done it then?" he asked bitterly, glaring at Skynet with all the hatred in his body that he could muster.

"Testing is not yet complete," the AI explained. "The majority of subjects are still dying, whilst the survivors go mad. You will be my prize, therefore testing must be 100% successful before I turn you. Don't worry," it added. "Testing is 47% successfully complete. I estimate about two weeks remain before you will be ready to be assimilated."

With that, it turned and left, not bothering to either wait for a reply, or to sedate the military leader again. Perhaps it thought that the restraints would be enough. John wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, however.

He had at most two weeks, maybe less. But either way, John wouldn't just lay down and accept his fate quietly. Sarah Connor hadn't raised a quitter. John would escape, or dying trying. Either was preferable to becoming Skynet's obedient slave.

He gritted his teeth, testing the restraints on his wrists again. His mother hadn't raised him to fail. He wasn't going to let it end this way. He'd escape or he would die trying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. 18/4/2019 Updated this story to make it flow better.**

**Chapter Two**

_**Mexico, November 10**__**th**__**, 1984 (original timeline)**_

_Despite the fact that she had tied a faded pink headband around her head to keep her honey-brown hair out of her face, the humid Mexican wind still managed to blow some stray locks into Sarah's face as she drove along the dirt road. _

_A small pistol lay on her lap, its' presence as comforting a reassurance as Bruno's, the large dog she had brought from a survivalists' commune right after going to Mexico. She vividly remembered how Kyle had told her about dogs being able to detect the presence of Terminators, so Sarah had vowed to have at least one trained attack dog with her constantly to act as a guard for her and her unborn son._

_As well as Bruno and her pistol, she had three other guns, an automatic and two shotguns, hidden under the seats. She practiced with them constantly, to the point that calluses had begun forming on her hands, and she got a bulls-eye eight times out of ten, despite her swollen belly throwing off her centre of gravity. She had also started spending her evenings reading books on battle-strategy, guerilla warfare and combat medicine. Her paranoia had been turned up to a hundred as well, and every noise made her twitch for her gun. _

_Maybe if she had been smarter, more cautious and less hysterical during those awful few May days, she wouldn't be preparing to raise her, __**Kyle's**__ son, on her own. _

_She sighed and shook her head slightly to dismiss the thoughts of 'what-ifs'. Maybes wouldn't help her raise John, or become that 'legend' Kyle had described her as being known as. She would never love anybody else like she had loved Kyle, she knew that. But she had to focus on John, on caring for him and preparing him for his destiny. Kyle was gone, but John's life was just starting, and everything relied on him. Kyle would've wanted her to make sure that he was ready. That he would survive._

_Her gaze drifted to the passenger side and she kept one hand on the wheel as she picked up the tape recorder that was laying there innocently. She flicked it on and raised it to her lips, spying a sign for a nearby gas station and beginning to follow it as she did so._

"_Tape 7, November 10__th__," Sarah said into the recorder as she guided the jeep along the dusty road. "Where was I?" she asked. "What's most difficult is deciding what I should and shouldn't tell you." She bit her lip lightly for a moment before continuing._

"_But I guess I have a while yet before you're even old enough to understand these tapes." She smiled faintly, patting her swollen stomach gently as she spoke. "They're more for me at this point, just so that I can get it all straight." _

_Kyle had told her so much in such a short amount of time, she feared forgetting something or getting it confused, and it having catastrophic consequences for John when he was fighting the war. Forewarned was forearmed, after all. But she'd scribbled everything out frantically in the hospital (hiding it all from the nurses so as to avoid another visit from a psychologist) and she was fairly certain that she had everything reasonably straight. And anyway, the entire week she and Kyle had spent together was branded into her mind with vivid detail. She didn't think she'd ever forget a second of it._

_John kicked, startling her mind back into the present. Realizing that she'd arrived at the gas station, she switched off the recorder before pulling in and turning off her large red Jeep, hiding her pistol inside the hollow armrest before struggling out of the car, grabbing her English-to-Spanish dictionary as she did so._

_A Mexican man dressed in grey pants and a faded shirt, his dark skin weathered from years in the desert, walked up to her with a wide smile. It was no wonder why he seemed to cheerful to see her. Given the abandoned air of the town, Sarah wouldn't've been surprised to hear that she was his first costumer in days._

_Resting one hand on her pregnant stomach, her bump accentuated by the long turquoise sundress she wore, she flipped open her dictionary to the bookmarked page she needed. "Uh, gasolina, porfavor?" she requested softly, her tiredness coming across in her tone._

"_Ah, cuanto?" he replied. _

_She quickly flipped the pages before looking back at him, pushing a stray lock of hair out of the way._

"_Llenar el tanque?"_

"_Ah, sí, sí," he agreed cheerfully, scurrying off to fill the Jeep. Sarah, meanwhile, scrambled back into the driver's seat, discreetly retrieving her gun again and relaxing once it was in reach. That done, she switched the recorder on again._

"_Should I tell you about your father?" she mused, giving a sad, rueful smile as she rubbed her belly thoughtfully. "Boy, that's a tough one.__ Will it change your decision to send him here...knowing that he is your father? But if you don't send Kyle, you can never be." She huffed in frustration at the thought. _

_"God, a person could go crazy thinking about all this...," she trailed off, lost in memories. Kyle's eyes, haunted by horrors she could barely comprehend but still filled with kindness, adoration and love for her, floated in front of her mind. For most of their time together he'd been so confident, yet when they'd lain together, he'd been shy and uncertain, letting her take the lead for the first time since they'd met. He'd sounded so broken when he'd confessed to loving her, Sarah had reacted without thinking. _

_She didn't think she'd been in love with him at the time, but she'd admired him and been attracted to him. His voice had been so broken when he'd confessed to being in love with her. Love wasn't supposed to hurt like that. She couldn't let loving her hurt him like that. His lips against hers had stolen her heart, and he taken it with him when he died to save her._

"_I suppose I will tell you...I owe him that." She half-smiled, remembering the short time in which he had been the most important part of her world. She owed him so much more than just telling their son every little detail she could about his father. She owed Kyle everything. "And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few, hours, we had together we loved a lifetime's worth..."_

_Sarah wasn't a fool. She knew that she had only caught a small glimpse of Kyle during their time together. There was so much about him that she didn't know. And his perspective of her had been coloured by her son. There was every chance that, in the long run, they wouldn't have worked out. _

_But they hadn't had the chance to find that out, so Sarah could only speak about the time they __**did**__ have together. And in that time, she had loved him with everything in her, and he had taken a piece of her with him when he died. She was a different person to the girl who had fled the night club with a soldier from the future last May. A very different person._

_A loud 'click' caused her to jump and broke her from her reverie. Her hand twitched towards her hidden pistol as she darted her gaze around in search of the source._

_She stared in tired surprise when she found it. A small Mexican boy had snapped her picture with a beat-up Polaroid camera. He held it out to her, speaking in rapid Spanish. _

_The attendant came up beside her and she looked at him._

"_What's he saying?" she asked softly._

"_He says that you are very beautiful, Senora, and he is ashamed to ask you for five American dollars for this picture, but if he does not, his father will beat him," the man explained._

_Sarah smirked gently at the boy. "Good hustle, kid," she murmured, reaching for her purse with one hand and holding up four fingers with the other. "Cuatro," she stated softly, making him nod eagerly and thank her as he accepted the money before he ran off._

_Sarah gave a half-smile as she looked at the photo before tucking it under her tape recorder. The young boy yelled something from beside the exit before racing away from the station._

"_What was that?" Sarah asked the attendant as she passed him the payment for the gas._

"_He says that there's a storm coming in."_

_They have no idea, Sarah thought darkly as she left out a heavy breath, looking towards the darkening horizon, and put on her sunglasses. "I know." _

_John kicked again as she drove away, a quiet reminder that, despite how it felt, she wasn't alone. She straightened her shoulders in determination, resting a hand protectively over her stomach. _

_"I'll protect you," she swore to him. "As long as I'm live, I swear to your father (she no longer believed in God, if she ever had) that you'll be safe."_

* * *

_**Los Angeles, November 2029**_

It took John a week to get the chance to escape. As far as he could tell, Skynet was the only Terminator, for lack of another term to call it, around. It also seemed to think that he had given up and accepted his fate, though it was surely prepared for the chance of an escape.

"_There is no fate but the one that we make,"_ he recalled Sarah telling him countless times over the course of his childhood. He had accepted his destiny as Humanity's Last Hope when the bombs dropped. But he would never accept Skynet's desire for him to be _its'_ Last Hope. Never.

He was reasonably sure that he was still in the same facility as the time travel device. He recognized the room that he was secured in from when they'd been clearing the building. That fact had allowed him to formulate a plan.

It was absolutely vital that he escape, or at least be killed, before he could be turned into a cyborg. As the understanding of Skynet's plans had sunken into his mind, so too had the possible consequences of such a thing.

Although the Resistance surely knew by now that something had gone terribly wrong with the assault on the LA work camp, it wouldn't've been the first time that John miraculously reappeared after being assumed KIA. And he had no idea if the dogs would register him as a threat or not once he had gone through whatever procedure Skynet would put him through to make him its' slave.

If he went there, and they didn't start barking to alert the Resistance, who would have relaxed the guard due to the assumed destruction of Skynet, then hundreds of people, the people that he had sworn to protect, could be killed before they managed to take him down. If they managed to take him down at all.

No, John could not, under any circumstances, let himself be converted. Thankfully, Skynet had restrained him simply. He was tied to a flat gurney by his neck, wrists and ankles with an IV line and a stats monitor attached to his arms. It was a laughable attempt to keep him down. John was almost insulted that Skynet thought those measures were enough.

Sarah had started teaching him to break out of restraints when he was a toddler. By the time he was ten, he could slip out of anything, and his pain tolerance let him ignore even electrified restraints.

The same with the sedatives that Skynet had been giving him via IV. Sarah had given him various drugs, poisons and antidotes starting from eight-years-old, ensuring that he had a high tolerance for them, and absorbed them rapidly.

The sedative had made him groggy, but he was able to stay awake, though Skynet, when it occasionally wandered in to change the bag, seemed to believe that he was asleep. That made sense. Kate had often mentioned to him that it was hard to tell if he was sleeping or simply had his eyes closed, because his stats and posture always stayed the same.

There seemed to be some nutrients in the mixture as well. At least, that was the only reason that John could come up with for why he wasn't beginning to suffer from the effects of lack of nourishment despite six days at minimum having passed since his last meal, several hours before the battle, Kyle going back in time, and his own subsequent capture. He was simply relieved that he would be unhampered by dehydration during his escape attempt. Hunger pangs and various aches were plaguing him of course, but he was used to that, and could easily block it out.

"_Pain can be disconnected, and thus controlled."_ Sarah had taught him that too. Sometimes John wondered how anybody else had survived J-Day, when none of them had Sarah Connor to prepare and protect them.

On what he estimated to be the end of the sixth, or the start of the seventh day, John waited, pretending to be in a drugged sleep, as Skynet replaced the empty IV bag with a full one, checked the restraints, and marched out again, locking the door behind it. It was the same routine the AI had followed since capturing John (and killing his soldiers. The fact still made the resistance leader's heart ache. They had been so close to a life without war and yet had lost the chance because of his arrogantly letting down his guard. They had died because of him. Times like this, John knew that his mother was right-their family was cursed to get those they cared for killed, with them surviving no matter what life threw at them.) and he knew that it wouldn't be back until the next time the bag needed changing.

As far as he could tell, there was no cameras watching him in the room, but he knew there'd be some outside in the hall. He would need to move quickly.

After an hour had passed, allowing Skynet to (hopefully) be a distance away, John got out of the restraints easily, and roughly yanked the IV line and stats probe out of his arm. He swore violently when an alarm started a second later, though he had expected it.

Ignoring the loud screeching, he dashed to the door, ignoring the dizziness and weakness that came from being tied to a hard gurney for a week, and began to enter the code he had watched Skynet use. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and John rushed out.

He scanned the hall rapidly, gaining his bearings. Every time it arrived and left him, Skynet's footsteps came from the left entrance, so John turned right, racing down the hall. He didn't bother with stealth, he'd given that up the moment he got out of the restraints. The only mercy was that he didn't have to fight any Terminators during his flight. On the floor above him, he could just make out the sound of Skynet's footsteps, hurrying to catch up to him and recapture him.

He spotted a window and dashed to it, looking out, a half-smirk forming on his features as he realized that, should he jump, he would land just above the chamber with the Time Displacement Device. Not even bothering to punch the glass out beforehand, he flung himself through, curling into a ball to protect himself in the process. As he did so, he counted down, and managed to land in a crouch, bleeding from dozens of shallow scratches.

Not daring to pause for even a second, he scrambled on all fours over to the chamber entrance and clambered down, closing and locking it behind him to gain a few extra seconds as he did so.

The room hadn't been touched since his capture, and the bodies of his platoon all lay where they'd fallen, some with surprised expressions, most going for weapons and looking determined. John knew that each of them would've willingly given up their lives for him, but it still broke his heart to see them. Only his mental voice, that was a replica of his mother, kept him from faltering at the horrific sight.

"_Keep moving Soldier!" _it snapped at him._ "There's nothing that you can do for them now. You need to focus on saving those who're still alive!"_

He nodded to the voice as he raced for the controls and checked them hastily. They too were untouched, and John felt a jolt of anxiety when he realized that it was still set to Los Angeles, May 12th, 1984. He wasn't familiar enough with the equipment to risk trying to change it. If he was going to do this, he had to go to the pre-set coordinates.

What would happen to the timeline with him in the picture? Unless this had always happened and the other John Connor simply didn't interfere. But could he really stand back and let things play out as they had the last time? Let Kyle, his best friend and father die, and Sarah be left heartbroken, terrified and burdened with two very different types of responsibility. Let Judgment Day happen again. Could he actually do nothing if he had the chance to change it?

A noise alerted him to Skynet's approach and he made his decision quickly, slamming a hand on the switch to start the device powering up and making a dash for the platform, stripping hastily as he went. He'd decide what to do when he got to '84. Right now, he just needed to get there alive.

The device was lighting up with blue electricity as he dived onto it, and the last thing he saw before he was engulfed in an agony worse than he had ever felt before was Skynet storming the chamber, rage that a machine shouldn't be able to feel having overtaken its' whole expression.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. 18/4/2019: Updated this chapter to make it flow better.**

**Chapter Three**

_**Los Angeles: October 12**__**th**__**, 1991 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah had spent months planning her attack in detail, and before that spent years contemplating it. The name of the company that would create Skynet was emblazoned in her mind as the architects of humanity's destruction. Kyle's voice echoed in the back of her mind constantly, repeating it. Cyberdyne Systems. Cyberdyne Systems. The creators of Skynet. _

_She had held off for several years, during which she lived with her son in various parts of South America learning various skills that would be useful for the leader of the resistance after J-Day and instructing John in them in turn. She hoped desperately to prevent the deaths of billions, but if she failed, he had to be ready. Not only because he was the future leader of the resistance, but because he was her son. She had to keep him safe, even at the cost of his innocence._

_Finally, when John was almost nine, she took him back to her home city. It was the first time she had set foot in it since she left in '84, and the ghosts of those who died at the hands of the T-800 haunted her. Memories of Kyle had never felt sharper, but she hid her grief stubbornly. John didn't need to bear her pain on top of everything else._

_Claiming to be an Army widow, she enrolled John in a local school under the alias John Gale, and gained a menial job as a cleaner in Cyberdyne Systems with the same false surname._

_Her access was heavily restricted, but she was an excellent burglar, not to mention the blueprints were publicly available, and she spoke to a local demolitions expert that Enrique had put her in contact with to learn where the best place would be to set her bombs. She decided that it was only fitting to use pipe bombs to bring down the building, and its' research with it. She had long since learned how to make better bombs, but Kyle had been the one to teach her to make pipe bombs, and she decided to use them in his honour._

_She ensured the building would be left empty over the Christmas holidays by repeatedly sabotaging the various alarms, driving out all of the workers and making the emergency services lax when it came to responding. She had left a motorbike hidden nearby for her get-away, and walked a complicated route back to her house, where she'd tucked in her son, and then again made her way back to Cyberdyne on foot. She had repeatedly doubled back and checked for any followers, finding none. She had never acted like anything other than a single mother struggling to raise her son, like hundreds of other women, done nothing to tip anybody off as to her destructive intentions. Everything was perfect._

_She was in the middle of setting up her fifth bomb when she heard a police siren in the distance. It cut off quickly, but it was enough for Sarah to go on her guard (not that she hadn't been on-guard 24/7 since she was eighteen-years-old.) and hurry over to a nearby window, pulling on her night vision goggles._

_Her heart, previously filled with excitement at the prospect of freedom from the terrifying spectre of Judgement Day, dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Four police trucks, and multiple SWAT trucks. No doubt all of them were filled with armed guards. And the convoy was certainly coming towards Cyberdyne._

_She'd been discovered somehow, and she had no idea how. All she knew was that she had a minute, if that, to decide what to do. She could try and finish the job, but she already knew it was a lost cause. At best, she would only damage the building, but not enough to destroy the place completely. The research would definitely be saved, and that was the whole point of her attempt to destroy Cyberdyne in the first place. If she stayed, she would doubtlessly be captured by the cops, imprisoned and her son put in foster care. _

_There would be genuine records of John then. John Connor, not John Gale. Their fake identities wouldn't stand up to a proper police check, and there were records of her, pictures, from back in '84. They'd put the pieces together quickly._

_And if she was in prison, who would protect her son? Who would train him to be Leader of the Resistance and ensure that he was safely hidden away in a fallout shelter when the bombs fell? He was so young, they might be able to convince him that she was crazy, and he'd forget all of her training and warnings. His name and address would be a matter of computer records, allowing Skynet to send another Terminator back in time. Only it would be to kill John this time, rather than her. Only Sarah would be able to protect him if such a scenario happened. Only she knew the truth of what was to come, and accepted it. Everyone she and Kyle had tried to warn had dismissed them both as insane. John would be helpless._

_The choice, then, was clear. John's safety came before anything else. He was her son, and the future of the human race depended on him. She had to abort the mission._

_Sarah grabbed some rope out of her rucksack, secured one end to a nearby pipe and the other to her belt, then began rappelling out of the window and down the wall as quick as she could. She cut herself free the minute her feet touched the ground, and she made a run for it through the coverless-parking lot, climbing over the wall and darting around a corner into an alleyway just in time to avoid being caught in a police car's headlights._

_They would have to run again. They had spent eighteen months in LA, partially due to Sarah infiltrating and planning the destruction of Cyberdyne, and partly because of her son's delight at interacting with other, normal, kids his age. Sarah had justified it to herself as letting him learn how to interact with people so that he would be better able to command them in the future, but truthfully she simply revelled in the genuine pleasure he showed at living 'normally'. _

_Sarah wasn't a good mother, she knew that. But she loved her son, and she hated herself for taking his smile away in the name of keeping him safe. Again._

* * *

_**Los Angeles: May 12**__**th**__**, 1984 (altered timeline)**_

They'd been preparing for this day for the best part of a decade, and Sarah still didn't feel ready. Oh, the T-800 wasn't a major concern. She and Pops had been fighting the far-superior T-1000 for years, after all, and Sarah sparred with her T-800 Guardian regularly. Her aim with any sort of gun, from every angle and range, whether the target was moving or not, was faultless even when she had a dislocated arm (a fact confirmed by experience). No, dealing with the Terminator wasn't what made her breath get caught in her throat.

The thought of everything that came after, however, did. Meeting (and loving and losing) Sergeant Kyle Reese, pregnancy, having and raising John to be mankind's last hope. All of that terrified her deeply, and she channelled her fear into anger to keep her own sanity intact. It wasn't fair to Reese that she had set herself to hating him before they met, but Sarah was determined. If she could make him dislike her, and leave her, then maybe he'd live. She had figured out a long time ago that anybody who loved her, or tried to protect her, ended up dead. Sarah, however, always survived. She wasn't sure which was harder.

She shook away her thoughts to focus on the events at hand. In the distance, she could see a younger twin of her protector, naked, demanding clothes from a group of young idiots who clearly thought they were tough. Sarah guessed that it'd take her the best part of five minutes to down all three of them without a weapon.

Just before Pops stepped forward and called out to his doppelganger, Sarah split away and dashed for her pre-chosen vantage point. She raced up the steps, taking them three at a time and skidding onto the balcony.

She went down on one knee as she set up her sniper's rifle, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she aimed it. She kept a finger resting on the trigger as she tracked the fighting Terminators through her scope, unable to take the shot while Pops blocked her target from view. Finally, the newer T-800 flung her protector away, giving her a clear view of its' chest as it began stalking forward towards him. She took the shot, and her aim struck true, smirking in satisfaction as the cyborg collapsed in a heap.

Pops rose to his feet, turning towards her and giving her a thumbs up. She was just beginning to put her rifle back in its' case when the blue lightning appeared.

Jumping to her feet, she abandoned the sniper rifle and swung her automatic around from her back to hold it at the ready as she rushed back down the metal staircase. At the bottom, she found Pops waiting with his own shotgun.

"This event is unexpected," he informed her, as if she wasn't perfectly aware of that fact already. "I will investigate."

"I'm coming with you," she insisted, darting off before he could protest. The electricity had dispersed by the time they arrived at the epicentre of the miniature storm, leaving behind the unconscious form of a human man.

He was too old to be Reese, Sarah was sure about that at least. Pops' files on her son's father were limited, but she knew that he was born 2004, and travelled back in 2029, making him twenty-four/twenty-five at the time. This man seemed twice that. Even though they probably aged quicker in the stressful conditions of the future, she was sure it wasn't him.

The man was tall enough, but so thin doctors would have coronaries and start bringing up buzzwords like osteoporosis. She could easily count his ribs. The scars were much worse to see, though. They were thick and ugly and they littered his body. Burn scars, knife scars, and more. The entirety of the left side of his face was covered in a particularly bad one. He was bleeding from dozens of shallow cuts that were scattered over his body, like he'd jumped through glass or something, and it looked like he had pulled a cannula out of his elbow. A partially-healed wound that she guessed came from one of the plasma guns Pops had told her about, was on his back, almost exactly in the centre of his shoulder-blades.

Something about him seemed almost familiar. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in thought. Shock jolted through her as she realized that he reminded her of her father. He looked similar to her father, and had obviously come from the future. Did that mean...? Was it possible...?

"Who is he?" she whispered, hardly daring to contemplate her guess.

"It is John Connor, leader of the resistance and your son," Pops announced plainly.

Despite her suspicions, Sarah let out a gasp of surprise, feeling her breath leave her in a sharp gust. "What the fuck?" she snapped, scrambling to her son's side instantly, feeling panic begin to well in her throat as she reached to check his vitals. "John!"

He stirred slightly as she touched him, squinting up at her with uncomprehending eyes. If she'd had any doubt about his identity before, it was erased by his bemused, only half-audible, "Mom?"

"It's okay," she cooed to him in a gentle tone she hadn't realized she was capable of. She stroked the scarred side of his face, forcing a smile. "I'm here, you're safe," she promised. "I'll protect you, I swear John. Just rest, you're safe." The words tumbled out without her even realizing what she was saying as she tried to soothe him.

His eyes, the same colour as the ones she'd inherited from her father, were still confused, but he gave a slight nod. "You always do," he slurred before fading back into unconscious. For one horrific second, she thought that he'd died, but his chest continued to move up and down steadily.

"We need to get him to the truck," she snapped at Pops, who had been standing in silence behind her. "Now! Carry him."

To her relief, he made no protest as he picked her son up bridal style and started for the van. Once there, he laid John down carefully on the bench-seat and went to retrieve the destroyed Terminator. Sarah, meanwhile, covered John's lower half with a blanket for modesty before she grabbed the first-aid kit from the corner of the vehicle and set to work cleaning and fixing up her son with as tender a touch as she could manage.

Only one thing had ever seemed good to Sarah about the future that Pops had told her about, and that was John. She had no idea why_ she_ of all people had ended up as the new Mother Mary, but she had. And she'd felt a fierce love and protection for him since she'd learned of his existence, despite only being nine at the time. A mother's instinctual love, she guessed. Half the reason she was so desperate to stop Judgement Day and Skynet was so that her son would be safe, and not responsible for the entirety of mankind.

She didn't want the unborn version of her son to have the scars that littered the torso of this version of him.

"How is he?" Pops grunted ten minutes later, after retrieving his double's remains and starting the engine. Sarah swayed naturally with the movement of the truck, using one hand to hold John steady while the other cleaned and patched him.

"Still breathing," Sarah answered curtly, wiping away yet more blood from her son's chest. He was coated in it, and dirt. She was getting seriously concerned about his cuts getting infected. She briefly debated taking him to a hospital for proper treatment, but quickly decided against it. There would be too many questions, and John wasn't even born yet. At least Sarah had extensive combat triage training. She was just used to patching up herself and Pops, not another human being.

"That is good, as the machines cannot be defeated without him," Pops said after a moment. "However, I am uncertain how this turn of events will affect the timeline. John Connor was not supposed to come to 1984."

"Well, we already knew that the timeline had changed," Sarah pointed out bitterly. If it hadn't, her parents would have lived passed 1973, and Sarah would currently be oblivious to the impending destruction of her life and humanity as a whole, instead of having been dreaming of Judgement Day since Pops had told her about it when she was nine.

"Yes, however certain events must occur to ensure the ultimate destruction of Skynet and the machines, in the event that your plan fails. Such as your and Kyle Reese's mating."

"We're not having this discussion again!" Sarah snapped immediately. "The plan _will_ work. There is no fate but what we make."

She held tightly to that mantra, the same one that her counterpart in the original timeline had been known to say often to keep her sanity through dreams of Judgement Day and dying baby boys and her old home being consumed in a fire-ball of death, her parents with it. She _would_ stop Skynet. And she'd conceive her son as well, but like hell was she going to fall in love with Kyle Reese. She was putting her foot down on that one. He'd thank her for it eventually, when he realised that her keeping herself and John away from him would save his life. Anybody who loved her died, and from what Pops had told her, she'd passed her curse to her son too.

"That belief is the basis on which you have created your plan," Pops agreed before going quiet. They stayed silent for several more minutes as he drove and Sarah continued to patch John up.

As she dabbed at his neck with an anti-septic wipe, he began to stir again. This time, his gaze was thankfully lucid as he squinted up at her with a confused expression.

"Mom?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse. "Wh-how? Am I dreaming? Did I die?"

"No," she murmured, stroking his cheek softly and saying nothing as he leaned into her touch. "You time travelled. It's May 12th, 1984."

"But you're not supposed to know-"

"Things have changed, John," she interrupted. "I'm a different Sarah Connor to the one who raised you. I-"

"We are approaching the location of Kyle Reese," Pops reported from the driver's seat. "I recommend that Sarah come into the front seat and take over driving. It is unlikely that Kyle Reese will agree to come with me, due to his previous battles with Terminators."

John had tried to leap up once he heard the sound of the Terminator's voice, Sarah rushing to stop him. "Gimme a minute!" she snapped at her guardian, turning back to her son and forcing a smile. "Pops is safe, I swear. He was reprogrammed and he's raised me since I was a kid. Just stay here while we grab Reese."

Still wary, John gave a reluctant nod, and Sarah quickly swapped places with Pops. She pressed down on the accelerator, making the truck pick up speed. Seconds before they went crashing through the wall, she called out to her companions "Brace yourselves!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. **

**A/N: There will be mentions of characters from novels, T:SCC, and all of the movies, though they may be ooc due to the fact that this story (and Terminator Genisys) happen in a timeline where the bombs dropped on August 29****th****, 1997 (for John and Kyle's original timeline.) For example, according to Terminator Wiki, Kyle's parents were Dennis Reese and Mary Shea. His older brother Derek comes from T:SCC, and raised him after the deaths of their parents. Tim was his younger brother whom he lost when he was six. The memories Kyle recalls while time travelling are slightly different to his brothers' presences.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_**Skynet Work Camp "Century", San Francisco: April 12**__**th**__**, 2016 (original timeline)**_

_John hurried through the work camp. His small force, the core of what was turning into his army, had launched their attack on Century two hours prior, and the machines had been destroyed. The remainders were being dealt with by his people. _

_The prisoners were being guided out by his other soldiers, most of them torn between sobbing in disbelief or being stunned silent from shock. Several were too frightened to leave, and were being coaxed into leaving by the medics._

_He was passing by an open porthole and glanced down just in time to see a young boy pressed against a wall or something. John instantly realized that the kid had been a prisoner who, like many of the child captives, had fled to the tunnels for 'safety', and was now cornered. Fast as he could, John tossed his rope into the porthole and slid down it, shooting at the Infiltrator. He disabled its' gun-arm first, allowing him to turn it into a scrap heap quickly._

_Then, he turned to look at the boy. Like many who saw John destroy a machine for the first time, the boy had a stunned and awed expression on his face. No doubt he had believed them to be indestructible. There was fear on his expression too, but it was overshadowed by the amazement and admiration. John was used to all of it, but something about the kid was different. He looked familiar._

_An almost-teenager in a work camp who looked familiar. Could it be? Was it possible? John hardly dared to hope that, eight months after losing Kate and their unborn child, he was being given the chance he had been longing for since childhood._

_Slowly, hardly daring to hope in case his suspicions were wrong, he crouched down to the boy's height, looking him in the eye and holding out a hand. "My name is John Connor," he introduced himself. "I'm General of the Resistance against the machines."_

"_You destroyed it," the kid told him, nodding towards the Infiltrator. "How? I didn't know that was possible."_

_John's lip quirked up slightly at the side. "It's difficult, but not impossible," he informed the young boy. "I can teach you how, if you want to fight."_

_The boy's eyes widened at that, and he nodded instantly. "I want to!" he insisted, making John's grin grow slightly._

"_What's your name?" he asked, hoping his mother's lessons on faking emotions were paying off._

"_Kyle Reese."_

_It would be many years before Kyle understood the expression that flickered over his commander's face when he said his name._

"_Well then Kyle Reese," John said, his voice hoarse as he took in the face of his child father for the first time in his life. "Welcome to the Resistance."_

* * *

_**Los Angeles: November 18**__**th**__**, 2029/May 12**__**th**__**, 1984**_

"JOHN!" Kyle yelled in warning as he spotted the gun being raised and pointed at his best friend's back by what had to be a Terminator that had somehow slipped into their platoon. John and the others turned around, reaching for their weapons, just as agony worse than he had ever felt before engulfed Kyle's body and images started flashing through his mind.

_**He was running through a field of gold, the sky a clear blue, and tugging a red, kite? How did he know what it was? Behind him, the wind holding it aloft. Tim came scrambling over, "Let me have a go," he called. Kyle pouted as he handed it over to his younger brother. Glancing over, he spotted Derek leaning against a tree looking at something that Kyle couldn't see in his hand.**_

_**The image changed, and he was fleeing through a dirty sewage tunnel, the water soaking through his thin shoes and wetting his trousers. Century had just been attacked by the Resistance, and Kyle had fled in confusion and fear after seeing his older brother Derek be gunned down by a Terminator in the midst of the chaos.**_

_**More memories, of peering out from under a broken-down shelter, staring anxiously up at the aerial HK that was scanning the ruins of San Francisco. Derek tugged him back under, pulling him closer. "Don't let them see you!" Derek hissed at him, his voice barely audible. Kyle's eyes fell to stare at his shoes, one of them with a hole in them, and wondered why they even bothered trying to survive. What was the point, when they were only putting off the inevitable?**_

_**Then he was standing in front of three graves, two much larger than the middle one. Each had an improvised headstone, with his parents' and younger brother Tim's names carved onto them. He knelt in front of them solemnly for several moments, before Derek came, passed him a duffel bag and bedroll, and pulled him away. They couldn't stay anymore. The lack of game had already killed their parents. It was time to go. Despite knowing that it was the only way to survive, Kyle still looked back longingly and wished to stay.**_

Kyle felt himself grabbing his head, the pain almost overwhelming him, as different memories continued to flash through his mind. Ones that he _didn't_ recognize.

_**Rain was falling, but everything was still brightly coloured in a way Kyle didn't know. His world was a world of greys and browns. The most colourful thing he had ever seen was the faded photograph of Sarah Connor. He was sitting on the swing that hung outside his family's home, intact instead of broken like he remembered it being, watching the droplets fall. He turned to look at the porch as he heard his father's voice calling him.**_

"_**Hey, birthday boy!" Dennis called, a happier expression on his face than Kyle could ever recall seeing before. He looked healthy, rather than gaunt and scarred as Kyle remembered him being. "Present time! Let's go!"**_

_**Then he was suddenly in the dining room of his old home, but it was cleaner and filled with people. His younger brother Tim was on his left, while Derek was at the other end of the table, between a few more boys Kyle's age. His mother came in, her red hair hanging loose to her shoulders and a multi-coloured necklace around her neck. There was a bright smile on her face, untainted by the horrors of Judgement Day. She held a food that Kyle somehow knew was chocolate cake covered in icing with several lit candles on top. She set it in front of him, and the image blurred a second later. His surroundings were all the same, but instead of the cake, there was a rectangular box covered in blue wrapping paper. He ripped it open, revealing a flat white box with 'GENISYS' printed across the top.**_

"_**No way!" he exclaimed, as the others craned their necks to see.**_

_**Mary smiled warmly and rubbed his back as he lifted the lid to reveal a tablet with a countdown on it. "Genisys will auto-update as soon as it comes online," his mother explained in her Irish burr. "You'll have it the moment it comes out. Just a few days more."**_

_**The image changed again, this time even more impossible. He was in a stairway, and Sarah Connor, dressed in black and the same age as in her picture, was crouched in front of him, looking at him seriously. She was holding his palm out and tracing a line across it. "Straight line," she told him. "Just go, and don't look back. You can do this Kyle."**_

_**The images flickered and blurred again, until he was in a room that he somehow knew was his own. He glanced at the open doorway to ensure that nobody could see or hear him, then turned to the mirror hanging above his dresser. "Remember, Genisys is Skynet. When Genisys comes online, Judgement Day begins. You can kill Skynet before it's born."**_

He landed painfully on his side on wet gravel, and let out a groan and grunt as he flopped over to collapse awkwardly on his stomach. His head was dizzy from the trip and he grunted and panted as he forced himself up onto his feet and looked around at his surroundings. Despite having logically known that it would be so, the sight of buildings unruined by bombs shocked him. Visions while time travelling aside, Kyle had never seen anything like it.

An elderly man with long white hair and a bottle of alcohol sitting on the edge of a path blinked at him. "Hey bud," the man slurred. "Did you just see a bright, white light?"

Kyle stared at the man, glanced down at his naked body, then lunged. It was shockingly easy to pin the guy and take his pants, and he just fastening them when he heard a siren blaring as a black and white car he recognized as being a police car, pulled up beside the alley. He remembered John's stories about his mother's criminal lifestyle, how she'd been arrested multiple times for various offences. The police had been the ones who had kept order in the world before Judgment Day, in contrast to the military.

Kyle bolted the moment he saw the uniformed man climbing out of the car. He couldn't afford to be captured, he needed to track down Sarah Connor and protect her. And he needed to make sure that he was in the right time too. That part would be much simpler.

He got to the other end of the alley, glanced both ways before darting to the right and hiding. He waited while the policeman checked the area out with his flashlight, before jumping forward and grabbing his handgun and turning it at him. "What date is it?" Kyle demanded. "What year?"

"May 12th, 1984," the policeman replied. His even expression and strange voice made the hairs on Kyle's arms stand up in warning, and he tensed.

"The day you arrive," the newly-revealed Terminator finished as its' arm changed into a long, spear-like weapon. Kyle jumped backwards just in time to avoid being skewered, instead simply being grazed lightly across the chest. He stared in shock for half-a-second before his training and years of battle-ingrained instincts kicked. Quickly, he shot the machine several times and ran off, the Terminator at his heels. As he rushed off, Kyle briefly wondered how it had known where and when to intercept him. Then he pushed the question aside to focus on survival.

He climbed a wrought-iron ladder and smashed a window and scrambling inside. Looking around, he realized that he must've been in a clothes shop. Any shop Kyle had ever seen had been destroyed and was empty save for debris. This one was a stark contrast to all of those. Unlike every shop he'd ever seen, it was _filled_ with things. Clothes, shoes and more. Everything cleaner than he'd ever seen and undamaged. There was enough of it to clothe the entire Resistance, including the civilians.

If Kyle hadn't been so intent on escaping the machine chasing him, he'd have stopped to stare at it all in amazement.

Instead, he darted through the maze of clothes, grabbing a shirt, coat and some shoes as he did so.

He hid in a cubby with a curtain, pulling it closed quietly and tugging on his stolen clothes. Just as he was leaning back against the wall to catch his breath for a second, the Terminator's spear/arm pierced through the wall, inches from Kyle's cheek.

The sergeant swore, fell forward onto all fours and fled again, scrambling under the curtain and shuffling beneath several racks of clothes before jumping back up and continuing to ran, jumping over the side of an escalator to get to the floor below. He hurtled around a corner, and slammed right into someone, knocking them both to the ground.

"LAPD!" he heard a second later. "Freeze!"

Kyle glanced up, seeing a young man in a coat and a uniform like the one worn by the Terminator, pointing a gun at him. He was clearly ridiculously new, because his hands trembled on the firearm.

"Alright, that freaking hurt," the guy Kyle had knocked down grunted.

"Garber, you okay?"

"You tell me, O'Brien," the man groaned as he got to his feet.

"You're human," Kyle realized, starting to stand. "Hey, you got to let me go."

"Face down!" the guy, O'Brien, insisted. "Hands on your back, or I _will _shoot!"

"Listen to me," Kyle begged. He felt himself be knocked over the head and collapsed back onto his knees again. Thankfully, he was still conscious. Unconsciousness would be very bad right now. "Hey! It's coming, all right? You need to listen to me, or we're all going to die."

They ignored him, cuffing his hands behind his back while Kyle tried frantically to figure out a way out of his situation and coming up blank.

"I had it under control," O'Brien claimed as they marched Kyle towards the exit.

"Yeah, okay, T.J. Hooker," Garber snorted. "Here's what you _don't_ do your first day on the beat. Use lethal force on the delusional homeless guy. By the way, you're filling out the paperwork on this." He was cut off with a gurgle abruptly by the Terminator's spear/arm piercing him through the chest.

"Garber!" O'Brien yelled in horror before raising his gun and pumping the Terminator's head with bullets. Its' head snapped back for a moment, before it straightened again a second later, the hole in its' head closing over. O'Brien lowered his gun in shock.

"Shit," he breathed.

The Terminator began striding towards them, and Kyle quickly used his head to push the cop out of the way. They ran and took cover behind a set of tables with jewellery displayed on them.

"That's got to be an alien, like from outer space," O'Brien stammered, eyes wide with terror.

"It's a machine that kills humans," Kyle snapped at him, craning his head to try and spot the machine. He held his cuffed hands towards the police officer. "Uncuff me!" he ordered.

"No!" the other man exclaimed. "You're under arrest!"

Kyle gave him an incredulous look. "What part of "kills humans" is confusing to you?" he demanded. "Handcuffs!"

O'Brien quickly fumbled to release him, then held his walkie-talkie to his mouth while Kyle snatched his gun and fired at the machine. It didn't even make the thing stumble, despite Kyle's flawless aim.

"O'Brien. Officer down," he stammered into the radio. "We need backup. It's a, a robot!" He glanced at Kyle. "We're screwed, aren't we?" he asked miserably.

"Pretty much," Kyle replied dully, resigning himself not only to dying, but to Sarah Connor being killed, taking humanity with her in the process._ I'm sorry John, _he thought regretfully. He should've let one of the other, better, soldiers go. One of them might've been able to save the Mother of the Resistance. Instead, he'd let his love for the woman John had described, and his selfish desire to meet her, make him press John to let him go. And maybe if he hadn't been chosen, he could've helped John when his best friend had been shot. Kyle didn't even know if he'd survived the attack.

Just then, a truck came crashing through the wall of the shop and slammed into the Terminator as it raised its' arms to attack the vehicle. The machine went flying backwards into a display case as the truck came to stop and the door flew open.

Kyle's jaw dropped open in shock at the sight of Sarah Connor herself in the driver's seat. He recognized her immediately. She looked so like in the photo, save for her clothes and hair being different, and the obvious fact that her stomach was not yet swollen from pregnancy. Her expression was determined instead of sad, as well.

"Come with me if you want to live!" she yelled at him.

Kyle stayed still, utterly gobsmacked, while Sarah lifted a handgun and shot at the Terminator, making it stumble backwards, before she turned back to Kyle, irritation flashing over her beautiful face. "NOW Soldier!" she barked.

Training kicked in, and Kyle jumped up, flinging himself into the truck. Sarah had started to close the door even before his feet were fully inside, and she reversed out of the hole she'd made in the wall quickly, the Terminator racing after them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. I realize (or at least to me it seems like they are) these chapters are a bit stilted. I just need to get into the story a bit, and I promise they'll be better. ****BTW, personally, I see Christian Bale as John Connor, but feel free to picture whichever one you want. I am also using bits of the T:SCC, but obviously not all. And of course, in this story (and in Genisys), J-Day occurred August 29th, 1997.**

**Chapter Five**

_**Texas: October 18**__**th**__**, 2024: Naco**__**gdoches Offensive (original timeline)**_

_Kyle stared down through his binoculars at the oil field they were preparing to attack. It was heavily guarded. In his line of vision alone there were nine T-3s. There would be even more where he couldn't see them. _

_Still, the Resistance had no real choice in the matter. Their ever-small amount of supplies was dwindling dangerously. Taking control of the oil field would be a major victory for the Resistance, giving them a steady supply of fuel, which would allow them to power their transports far easier. John himself was in charge of the mission, which wasn't unusual, but showed the importance of it._

_Kyle heard the familiar sound of a foot stepping on a bone, and quickly flipped over. He dropped his binoculars on his chest, letting them hang around his neck from the frayed old strap, and lifted his plasma gun. (The weapon was tied to his arm, a trick taught to him by Captain Marcus Wright, another member of Tech-Com, who'd died shortly after while liberating the work camp in Tennessee. By tying it to him, the gun could only be taken off of his dead body. In fact, Kyle had taken this exact gun off of Marcus' corpse.)_

_He lowered his gun hastily the moment he registered that he was not pointing it at a machine, but at his commander. John gave him a half-smile as he stepped up beside him and crouched down, out of sight of the machines._

"_Report, Reese," the general whispered._

"_Nine T-3s permanently posted on this section of the wall," Kyle answered in an equally-low tone. "And I spotted two pairs doing patrols, passing by every ten minutes. HKs, T-20s by the looks of it."_

_Connor's jaw tightened slightly and he gave a curt nod. "Perry's team will make the diversion at sundown," he informed Kyle. "We attack as soon as the machines here leave to reinforce the ones at the radio tower. With a bit of luck, we'll gain the field and destroy their communications in this region in one swoop."_

_Kyle nodded in agreement, a feeling of anxious anticipation fluttering in his stomach like he always did right before a battle. He had served with Perry's unit since '21, but despite that he also spent a lot of time 'on loan' to Connor's own elite unit. _

_He didn't understand why John Connor had taken him of all people under his wing, training him and letting him see the man behind the mask of 'Humanity's Last and Best Hope', why Connor told him so many stories of his late mother, not just the ones everybody knew, but also the little, more intimate things. Like her horrible singing voice, love of a singer named Elton John or the way she used to read the Wizard of Oz to her son in Spanish and cook pancakes that were, in John's words, to die for. And of course, there were the many stories that showed her bravery and skill with combat that everybody knew._

_It had been a great blow for John and the Resistance when she was killed. She was possibly the only person who had fought against Skynet and the machines, both before and after Judgement Day, and had given her life for her son to escape, taking three T-1s with her._

_Kyle would never admit it aloud, but he suspected that he was falling in love with his closest friend's dead mother. It was wrong on so many levels, but Kyle couldn't help it. He wished he could've met her._

"_Kyle," John glanced at him, slipping a hand into his breast pocket. "You know it's your birthday today?"_

_Kyle blinked and nodded. "Yeah, I know," he confirmed. He hadn't really thought about it. He hadn't celebrated his birthday since his father had joined his mother and younger brother in death. Even before then, their 'celebrations' had mainly been Kyle being given a little extra food, either one or both of his parents going without to allow it. A stark contrast to the way his parents had described birthdays being celebrated Before._

"_Well, back Before, people were given presents on their birthdays," John explained. "So I got you something."_

"_What?" Kyle blinked. "You didn't have to-"_

"_I wanted to," John interrupted. He hesitated a second longer before withdrawing a small, slightly ragged, Polaroid from his breast pocket, and handed it over. Kyle looked down, inhaling in amazement at the scene, forever captured in the plastic._

_It had more colour in it than Kyle had ever seen before, and was of a young woman, and had been taken from a lower angle, so that the camera was looking up at her. _

_She had brunette hair, tied back by a pink headband yet still falling onto her shoulders and forehead. She was dressed in green, with what looked like a necklace dangling from her throat. She was sitting in a red jeep with a large German Shepherd in the passenger seat, and a halo of sunlight, untainted by nuclear ash, surrounded her. She reminded Kyle of the angels his mother had told him and his brothers about._

_The thing that really drew his attention, though, was the expression on her beautiful face. Her full lips were turned down, and her green eyes were sad as she stared at something unseen in the photo, apparently unaware of the picture being taken._

"_She's beautiful," Kyle muttered as he gazed at the Polaroid, not realizing that he had spoken aloud. John cast him a quick look before he nodded in agreement._

"_I always thought that she was the most beautiful, strongest person in the world," John told him, tone wistful in a way that made the woman's identity click in Kyle's mind._

_He looked at John with wide eyes. "Is this your mother?" _

_John gave a half-smile and nodded again, his own eyes fixed on the picture. "Yeah," he confirmed. "That's her. Sarah Connor, the Mother of the Resistance. She was six months pregnant with me at time that it was taken."_

"_Wow," Kyle breathed. Trying to hide his reluctance to give away the picture of the beautiful woman, he reached out to pass it back to his friend. "Thank you for letting me see it."_

_John shook his head and pushed Kyle's hand, and the photograph, away. "Keep it," he told him._

_Kyle's jaw dropped. "But it's all you have left of her!" he protested. Kyle knew that he'd never have been able to give away a picture of anybody in his family, if he'd had any._

"_I have my memories," John replied firmly. "Her memory gives me strength to keep fighting, just like her. Maybe having the photograph will help you to fight, too."_

_Kyle swallowed, then carefully placed the picture into his own chest pocket, just above his heart. "I'll look after it," he vowed._

_John gave a half-smile and nodded. There was a look of tired sadness in his eyes as he responded. "I know that you will."_

* * *

_**Los Angeles, May 12**__**th**__** (altered timeline)**_

"Reese, right?" Sarah confirmed, glancing at him for a second before returning her gaze to the road. When she checked the side-mirror, she couldn't see any sign of the T-1000, but she knew that it'd catch up to them soon. It always did. "Kyle Reese?"

He stared at her with a shocked expression as he stated blankly, "You're Sarah."

Sarah cast him another look, her own bemusement slipping through her even mask. "Yeah, I know that," she said dryly. She frowned at him as she continued, a hint of concern leaking into her voice. "You hit your head back there or something?"

Reese shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder as he pulled himself into a better position. "The, the terminator. I don't know the model."

Sarah gave a quick nod and explained. "T-1000," she announced briskly, guiding the truck through the streets briskly. "Liquid metal. Shape-changer. It just needs to touch something to mimic it."

Reese stared at her in confusion. "You know about terminators? And you know who I am?"

Sarah nodded. "You were sent to protect me by John Connor, the leader of the Resistance," she clarified, hesitating a second before adding two small words that always seemed so momentous to her. "My son."

"I don't understand," Reese stammered. "You can't know any of this."

"But I do," Sarah retorted sharply.

"Sarah's never been could at doing what people say she should," a voice, hoarse, but wonderfully familiar, said, before she could continue.

Relief, shock and delight lit up Reese's expression as John stuck his head in between them. Sarah was alarmed to realize that she thought the expression made him look attractive. That was very, _very_ dangerous territory. She quickly shoved the thought away.

"John!" Kyle cried, grabbing his best friend in a tight hug. "You're okay, thank god! I saw you get attacked" How the fuck did you get here? What the hell happened?"

John grimaced back at him. "Hey Kyle," he greeted the younger man. "I'm glad that you got here okay. As for what happened and how I got here, the short version is that I was captured, and was being held in the same place as the Time Displacement Device. I managed to escape using it, and Sarah and, uh, her friend, picked me up."

"By the way," Sarah added, before Kyle could respond. "We dealt with the T-800 sent after me. And you're gonna need to give more details about what happened, John. Though I agree that now isn't really the time to be trading life stories."

"Who's your friend?" Kyle wondered, his brow crinkling.

Discomfort flashed across John's face as a voice, devoid of emotion, spoke from the back of the truck.

"Hello Kyle Reese. It is nice to meet you."

Pops moved into view, and Kyle automatically lunged for the nearest gun, which happened to be a shotgun leaning against Sarah's leg. The movement startled the young woman and the truck spun, John flying backward to smash into the wall with a violent curse.

"Reese you idiot!" Sarah shrieked, struggling to keep the truck from skidding. "Don't you dare," she snapped, spying the sergeant aiming at her protector. "Those bullets will kill him!"

"Stand down Reese!" John yelled. "Now!"

"But-" Kyle protested.

"Stand down!" the Connors both barked, their resemblance obvious. Reluctantly, eyeing Pops suspiciously and still clutching the shotgun, Kyle stopped trying to shoot the Terminator.

"Pops, come up here and switch with me," Sarah gritted out, anger radiating from her tiny form. "Reese, go in the back so the three of us and talk."

A few minutes of awkward shuffling and glaring later, all the humans were in the back of the truck, John and Kyle side-by-side facing Sarah. Looking at them, the young woman was surprised how similar they were. Same height, build, skin-tone. John had inherited her eyes though. Her mother's eyes. She wondered if she had ever told him that he was named for her father.

"What happened Mo-uhm, Sarah?" John stumbled over her name. It stung to call her 'Sarah' to her face, instead of Mom. It hurt to look at her even more. She was so like he remembered, but not as defeated by her grief and guilt over failing to prevent Judgement Day. Cancer had yet to begin destroying her slim body, and she had no faint scar going through her bottom lip. Other than that, however, she was just like he remembered.

He had missed her so much, and even though he was forty-four and the Leader of the Resistance, he desperately wanted to fling himself into her embrace and bury his head in her stomach like he'd done as child.

Sarah studied him with guarded green eyes that saw everything before replying. "The T-1000 came after me when I was a child," she explained the clipped tone she had used when talking to him about the War, J-Day, or his father while growing up. The one that said she would give however much information she wanted to, and not a word more. The one that said that this topic was painful for her, and she was covering her pain with cold anger to keep from tears.

John automatically classed the events under 'don't press'. Upsetting Sarah Connor was never worth it, and, like washing a cat, you ended up hurting almost as badly as her by the time it was over. He clearly had forgotten to warn Kyle about that particular aspect of Sarah's personality, however, as the other man was pressing her, an activity that was as dangerous as facing down a T-800 with nothing but a pistol.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

Sarah glowered back at him, clenching her fists. "It's none of your business," she hissed. "And now is hardly the time to be exchanging life stories. The T-1000'll catch up to us soon."

Kyle scowled and switched topics. "What about that thing?" he nodded in the direction of Pops. "And why is it old? I've never seen an old Terminator before."

"Me either," John admitted with a frown.

"The skin they put on the cyborgs is real human flesh," Sarah explained. "It ages. Pops was reprogrammed and sent back in time to protect me."

"Sent back by who?" John asked. "No one in the Resistance, at any rate. I'd've known about it. I didn't even realize that reprogramming Terminators was possible, though a few people have wondered about it a couple of times."

"That information has been erased," Pops informed them from the driver's seat. "However, logic indicates that it was someone who wished to save Sarah Connor, and was aware that Skynet was attempting to subvert the time loop."

"Very convenient that it doesn't know who reprogrammed it," Kyle scowled.

John shot him a warning look. Personally, he didn't trust the Terminator either. But he knew his mother, and he and Kyle would be a lot of trouble if she decided to side with the cyborg that had raised her over her unborn son and his father. Did she know that Kyle was his father? She seemed to know everything else. Which was typical when it came to Sarah.

"Whoever did it wouldn't have wanted their identity to get out," Sarah told Kyle in a clipped tone. "Probably to protect themselves from Skynet. Same reason I never revealed John's father to anyone. Keeps Skynet from targeting him."

Kyle looked startled for a second, and John wasn't particularly surprised. While he would talk about Sarah for hours, he only ever told anybody that his father had died before his birth. He felt guilty about that. He hadn't had another option, but he still felt awful about it. He'd planned to make sure it was known after the War had ended, so his father could be honoured as the hero he was. Before that, however, revealing his father's identity was just too dangerous.

A glint caught his eye, and he turned his head to glance out the unlocked and slightly-open door of the truck.

"Anyway," Sarah started to speak, but was distracted by John's yell of warning, moments before a bullet hit the wall of the truck. Catching up to them quickly in a police car, was the T-1000.

"Motherfucker!" Sarah swore violently, as they all snatched up guns and started firing at the T-1000 on their heels.

"We have been reacquired," Pops called from the front.

"Yeah, no shit!" she shrieked back as she pumped the shotgun in her hands. Reese was using an automatic, and John had a rifle.

"If we shoot out the wheels and hit the engine, we can at least delay it for a bit!" John yelled to his parents, who simply nodded and followed his suggestion, both hitting the tires while John himself got the engine.

They lowered their guns, panting lightly from the sudden adrenaline rush as their truck sped away from the car and the flames billowing from it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Six**

_**May 14**__**th**__**, 1984 (alternate timeline)**_

_Sarah sighed and sat up. She'd tried to sleep, but it had been impossible. Her mind was too filled with everything Kyle had told her, not to mention thoughts of the massacre at the police station. So many people dead, all because a computer in the future wanted to kill her before she could have a son who was going to be the saviour of humanity. It sounded like the plot of a science-fiction movie, but it was worse because it was real. And the good guys didn't always win in reality. What the hell was she going to do?_

"_It was an honour," Kyle had claimed last night under the bridge. "A chance to meet the legend, Sarah Connor." _

_A legend. Her. It was ridiculous. Sarah wasn't the strong woman Kyle claimed she was. Raising her son alone and in hiding, training him to survive a nuclear apocalypse and subsequent war against almost-indestructible machines. _

_No, that wasn't her. Why was the fate of the world resting in __**her**__ hands? She was a waitress, and she'd spent most of the past few days either yelling or sobbing! As she'd said to Kyle, she hadn't asked for this, and she definitely didn't want it. Not for herself, and not for her future son. But if she didn't go through with it, if she was killed before she could give birth to and train John, humanity would be destroyed. What was she going to do?_

_Well, she thought glumly. Dad always said that forewarned is forearmed. The list of battles and dates she had gotten Kyle to tell her, and the various strengths and weaknesses of the different machine models were all emblazoned on her mind. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or not for her good memory. She would be able to recall the list easily, but a large part of her desperately wanted to forget everything word that Kyle had said to her. _

_It was all so horrific, and his actions earlier, when he'd broken down over a__** flower**__. Sarah never wanted to see a world so desecrated that its' inhabitants broke down over something she had always taken for granted. Sarah had always loved nature and art, but now everywhere she looked had a countdown hovering over it. A countdown ticking down the moments until August 29__th__, 1997. Judgement Day. She shivered, feeling ice creep up her spine._

_She glanced over at Kyle. He was bare-chested and peering out the window, probably looking for the Terminator. Scars littered his torso, and it was obvious that they'd been brusquely patched. She doubted he'd even been given painkillers for most of them. The thought made her shudder._

"_You must be stronger than you ever thought that you could be," John had told her through the message that he'd given to Kyle. He'd thanked her for her courage. Sarah didn't feel strong or courageous. She felt like a scared child._

_She stood and went to perch on the chair behind him, crossing her arms protectively over her chest._

"_It's going to find us, isn't it?" she asked, her voice resigned. _

"_Probably," he admitted. She thought she could pick up a hint of regret in his tone._

"_And it's always going to be this way for me, isn't it?" she continued, shoulders slumping. This was her life now. Sleeping under bridges or in crappy motels, searching for threats in every shadow and strange face. Death following in her wake. It was a painful future to face. And her son would spend his whole life like that. Somehow, that thought hurt even worse._

_Kyle was quiet, and she took his silence as an affirmative._

"_Look at me, I'm shaking," she laughed bitterly. Tears pricked at her eyes. "Some legend, huh? I bet you're disappointed." _

_There was a reason that they said you should never meet your hero. In the end, everybody was human, and Sarah Connor was no 'Mother of the Resistance' as Kyle had called her. She was a terrified and grieving eighteen-year-old journalism student and waitress. _

_He had finally turned his face in her direction, rather than staring out the window onto the street, his expression carefully even. "No," he said softly. "I'm not."_

_Sarah took a shaky breath and tried to meet his eyes, though he tried to avoid her gaze. "Kyle? What are the women in your time like?" _

_She saw him swallow before he replied. "Good fighters."_

"_That's not what I meant." Sarah looked at the scars on his body, and desperately wanted to know that his life hadn't been a __**complete **__nightmare. She wanted desperately to know that this man who had given up his entire life and was putting it on the line to protect her had had __**some**__ happiness. "Was there ever someone special?"_

"_Someone?" His voice seemed almost hoarse and he looked away._

"_You know," she pressed. "Someone. A girl."_

"_No," he croaked. "Never."_

"_Never?" Sarah repeated, dismayed. She felt tears fill her eyes for the millionth time in the past few days. God, no wonder he had volunteered for this suicide mission. He had gone through so much, from the work camps he'd described to the war. It broke her heart to think that he'd never even had the comfort of love. How did he keep going?_

"_I'm sorry," she said through the tears falling from her green eyes. She reached out to touch his shoulder. "So much pain. I'm so sorry."_

"_Pain can be controlled," he told her. "You just have to disconnect."_

"_So you feel nothing?" Sarah didn't believe that. She could see his grief and the pain that he felt in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he spoke about the horrific future awaiting the world._

_Kyle was silent for several minutes before finally answering her. "John gave me a picture of you once," he said, surprising her. "I didn't know why at the time." Now, of course, it was obvious that John had known that Kyle would be going back in time, and would need to recognize her._

"_It was very old," he continued. Sarah noticed he seemed to be tracing something in the air with his fingertip. "Torn ... faded ...__ You were young, like you are now.__You seemed just ... a little sad. I always used to wonder what you were thinking at that moment."_

_For some reason she didn't understand, Sarah found herself holding her breath. Her nails were digging into her palms and she didn't dare move, least she break the spell that seemed to have come over them both._

_"I memorized every line ... every curve ..." He looked at her, gaze haunted and voice broken. "I came across time for you, Sarah. I love you. I always have."_

_Sarah was frozen in shock. Somehow, of all the things that she'd seen and heard over the past few days, this was the craziest. Kyle was in love with her? He'd come across time, not to ensure she lived long enough to have John, but simply to save her? She couldn't comprehend it. She'd realized already that he was attracted to her, he hadn't exactly hidden it very well, but __**love**__. That was a hellova lot different to lust._

_While his words were sinking into her mind, Kyle had leapt to his feet and stalked over to the small table, and started shoving their stock of pipe bombs into the duffel bag with an unnecessary harsh amount of force. "I shouldn't have said that," he bit out harshly as he did so._

_Without fully realizing what she was doing, Sarah made a decision. She stood and strode over to him, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her._

_He was broken and haunted, and noble and kinder than she would ever have expected from someone who'd spent his life in a war zone. And he'd sounded so pained when he'd admitted to being in love in with her. Love shouldn't hurt like that. Sarah couldn't, __**wouldn't**__ let being in love with her be a source of pain for him. If she could give him anything, she could give him this._

_She pulled his head down to her level and pressed her lips against his. He didn't react at first, but she didn't let that stop her. She kept pressing her lips against him, and he finally responded. His hands gripped her waist tight enough to bruise as she wrapped her legs around his hips. His kiss was filled with desperation as he slammed her into the fridge. She couldn't talk though. She was just as frantic._

_The consequences of that kiss, and the events that followed, wouldn't occur to her until much later, when Kyle was already dead and the Terminator destroyed._

* * *

_**May 12th, 1984 (alternate timeline)**_

They crashed throwed a wire fence soon after leaving the T-1000 and its' police car in flames, and Sarah was quick to jump out as soon as Pops had pulled to a stop in front of an old warehouse.

"What the hell?" Kyle blinked. "Why're we stopping? It'll catch up to us!"

John had jumped out of the truck a moment after his mother. He recognized the gleam in her eyes. Sarah had a plan.

"That's the idea," Sarah replied curtly, tugging at the plastic bag with the T-800 in it and giving it to her protector. "Pops, get it open." She turned and hurried into the warehouse, not bothering to look back at her companions.

John turned and gave his friend an apologetic smile. "Sorry about Mom," he apologized. "She can be...focused. It's nothing personal." It was strange to see her acting so cold towards Kyle. He was used to her holding back tears of grief when Kyle came up in conversation. He wasn't quite sure why Sarah was being so icy towards the other man, but he had a few guesses.

Kyle gave a rueful smile. "You did say she was temperamental," he shrugged. John winced and glanced over his shoulders.

"For both our sakes, please don't say I said that where she can hear," he begged. "She'll shoot us both." He wasn't kidding either. Sarah thought that every problem could be solved with bullets.

Kyle grinned at that, and John seriously wondered whether or not his young father was suicidal. He almost seemed to be enjoying pissing Sarah off, which was a potentially-lethal thing to do.

They followed her into the warehouse, the cold wind reminding John that he wasn't wearing clothes, only the blanket that Sarah had given him to cover himself with. Pops was pushing a fake wall out of its' position, revealing a hidden tunnel. The T-800 lay abandoned on the ground.

"We have approximately thirty-five seconds until the T-1000 discovers our location," Pops announced as they entered and made their way to Sarah's side.

A second later, before anybody could reply, shards of glass went flying everywhere as the T-1000 jumped through a window.

"Or less," the Terminator added, as Sarah instantly raised her gun and started shooting, her son and Kyle a second behind her.

The T-1000 was indifferent to their efforts, striding forward and chopping off one of its' arms to create a spear as it did. Kyle hastily tackled Sarah out of the way while John ducked, and spear went straight through Pops' shoulder, pinning him to the wall.

"Sarah go!" Pops ordered, as she scrambled up and dashed down the tunnel, casting a worried look over her shoulder as she did so.

Knowing his mother, they were probably luring the Terminator into a trap of some kind, though John was at a loss as to how to defeat a liquid machine.

Kyle grasped at John's arm and helped him up, tugging him away. The T-1000 had passed them by, heading for its' programmed target, but it had dropped a bit of liquid onto the T-800 as it passed. Said Terminator was now once again active, and had clearly labelled the two men as its' new targets, advancing towards them with lethal steps.

"Retreat!" John snapped at Kyle, shooting at the Infiltrator. The pain in his back, however, along with his exhaustion, was hampering his aiming ability. He scowled, more than a little annoyed that this was the impression he was making on Sarah. She would be so disappointed.

Kyle shot at the T-800, causing it to light up with flames. Neither soldier was particularly surprised when it came stalking out of the fire a second later, its' fake flesh burnt away to reveal the metal exoskeleton and crimson eyes.

The two men backed away, still firing. The bullets barely seemed to irritate their enemy, and John swore under his breath. "This is not working," he hissed to Kyle, who had abandoned his now-empty gun and scooped up another from where it had been propped against the wall.

"No kidding," Kyle grumbled back. Before either man could say anything else, the Terminator stamped its' foot, causing the metal grate they had somehow ended up on to collapse and send them crashing down to the lower level. The Terminator jumped down after them.

John let out a groan of pain as he smashed to ground, his vision going spotty, and Kyle hastily pushed him to the aside, just in time to avoid them both being crushed by the machine.

Snapping out of his haze, John scrambled to his feet and darted to the side, while Kyle rolled down over a series of pipes, going for the gun he'd lost in his fall. The Terminator turned its' attention to the weaponless resistance leader, and John let out another swear.

He looked side-to-side hastily, realizing he was now trapped in a tight corner. "Reese, a little help!" he called grimly, cursing his position. Worry coursed through him when his most-loyal soldier failed to reply. Oh god, please don't let him be unconscious, John thought frantically. They were both dead if he was. If not, Reese could probably get away at least.

The Terminator raised a long metal pipe that it had pulled from the wall and aimed it at John's chest. John raised his chin stubbornly, determined not to die with fear on his expression. Just as he was about to be pierced with the rusty pipe, the Terminator jerked, its' head going flying and its' eyes flickering as its' torso collapsed. Behind it, Kyle stood panting with a gun in his hands.

"I didn't volunteer for this shit," the soldier grumbled as he hastily went to John's side, scanning him for injuries.

"Good timing," John coughed. He grimaced, tasting blood, and dismissed it.

"You okay?" Kyle asked tensely as he passed John a second gun.

"I'm fine," John dismissed, automatically checking the weapon. "We've gotta find Mom. She's up against the T-1000 alone."

He couldn't help the worry he felt. Despite his mother's strength, she wasn't invincible. He knew it all too well. He didn't notice his flinch as he recalled Sarah's death in his own timeline. It had been the worst day of his life, save for Kate's death.

Kyle tightened his jaw, frowning at his friend. Personally, he'd prefer to leave John to rest while Kyle went to help Sarah, but he knew John too well to think that the older man would go for that. "Fine, but after that I'm going to make you rest," he grumbled as he followed his CO. John shot him an irritated look.

"I'm fine," he insisted stubbornly. Kyle rolled his eyes at the claim.

"You once told me that you were fine after being shot in the stomach," he pointed out flatly. Now that he'd met John's mother, Kyle figured that John had probably inherited his stubborn refusal to acknowledge if he was injured from her. Sarah was obviously fiercely independent and stubborn. John had mentioned that before, but Kyle hadn't quite realized just _how_ stubborn she was.

John didn't reply, signalling Kyle to be quiet as he heard a voice from around the corner. They rounded the corner into a circular room, where Sarah had been stepping towards a duplicate of Kyle, that looked injured.

"Mom!" John called in warning, though it was unneeded.

The minute she'd spotted her son and Kyle, Sarah had raised her gun again and fired at the T-1000 mimicking Reese. It cocked its' head, its' expression going blank, and turned back into the police officer again.

"Get back!" Sarah yelled towards John and Kyle, aiming for the ceiling that, John had just realized, was lined with what looked like oxygen tanks. Quickly, he grabbed Kyle's wrist and dragged him back into the shelter of the tunnel they'd just exited.

Meanwhile Sarah, running backwards as she did so, fired at the tanks, hitting each one with perfect accuracy and some liquid came spraying out.

Acid, John realized, as he saw the spray cause the T-1000's fake human form dissolve. Unlike when they'd hit it with bullets, however, these holes didn't reform. It still staggered forward, however, heading for Sarah. John eyed the tunnel, seriously considering whether or not he could get through it to help his young mother. Then he saw Pops stalk forward, grab the T-1000 by its' throat, and hold it in place under the acid until it had completely dissolved.

Without pausing, John turned on his heel and hurried back down the tunnel, determined to get to his mother. He had to know that she was okay. He had only just gotten her back. He couldn't lose her again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Seven**

_**September 13**__**th**__**, 1985 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah had spent the best part of a year travelling around Mexico before she had settled on who to contact to start training properly. _

_She had gotten self-defence lessons unless her stomach was too swollen for anybody to let it slide, put up with unwanted attention from strange men in exchange for shooting classes and names. Tracked down various doomsday preppers and made notes of what they stored and what plans they had for the supplies they hoarded. But that wasn't enough and she knew it._

_When John was six months, old enough to not need to her 24/7 and for Sarah to have recovered fully from the birth and regained her shape (only more athletic), she began searching for a way into the criminal underworld of South America. She knew that, once she had gotten wrapped up in the dark underbelly of America, she would have far better access to the weapons, supplies and training that she needed. _

_She needed to become the legend that Kyle had called her._

_If she didn't, then it wasn't just her son who would die, it was __**everybody**__. Sarah wanted to believe that she could stop Judgement Day and the War Against the Machines, but she had always been a glass half-empty kind of girl, even before May 1984. She needed to hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. _

_For John to become the saviour that Kyle had spoken of, Sarah had to train him. And that meant training herself first. _

_While a part of her, the small part that was still her parents' obedient daughter, cried out in protest, Sarah had already realized that, to get that training, she would have to join a gang. It was the only way to get the guns she needed. A criminal record would hardly matter when the bombs fell, after all. The things she would have to do were a small price to pay for the advantages she would receive in return. Being in a gang (depending on its' strength and reputation) would also give her some protection from the men who saw a young, delicate looking single mother and sought to take advantage of her._

_She was more capable of defending herself now, but at first, less able to fight and hampered by her pregnancy, all Sarah had been able to do was squeeze her eyes shut and endure while trying not to think of Kyle and how she'd been his first. Of course, if she chose the wrong gang to attach herself to, there was a chance she'd be in even worse straits._

_Therefore she began asking around, as subtly as she could, in search of a group that would fulfil her needs. If needs be, she'd take some abuse, just as long as her son was safe from it._

_One name that came up frequently in her careful prodding was Enrique Salceda. A weapons and drug smuggler. Not at the top of the ranks, but still high. Best of all, he had connections to several guerrilla groups in Brazil. _

_Sarah had already come to the conclusion that John would have to use a guerilla strategy in his campaign against Skynet. Based on what Kyle had told her, humanity was going to be reduced to a tiny fraction of its' current population, and while humans were injured, grew too old to fight, and needed to grow and train, their opponents could simply be rolled off an assembly line in the thousands, with the needed skills programmed into them. Meaning, of course, that they would vastly outnumber the humans, not to mention having better access to resources. And, of course, being controlled by a computer, they would probably have better tactics too. Historically, hit-and-run tactics were the only way to defeat a numerically and tactically superior foe. _

_She had been reading any book she could get her hands on about battle strategy of all types, as well as anything else that seemed remotely helpful. But theory could only help her so much. She needed actual experience. _

_If she could convince Salceda to help her become a member of the Contras in Nicaragua, she would quickly gain that experience. She didn't care what she had to do in order to gain the knowledge she, and more importantly, her son needed. Judgement Day was coming far too quickly. John wouldn't even be fourteen when the nukes fell. She intended to give him as much of a childhood as she could, but she would always prioritize his safety over his happiness. No matter how much doing so hurt._

_From the moment that she had learned of his existence, John had become the centre of her world. The only thing she had left of Kyle, and her son. The first she had felt him move within her, incomparable love had filled her heart. When she'd taken him into her arms for the first time, she'd known that there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect him and ensure that he lived to see the end of the war._

_That was why she was now driving up to a trailer. Bruno was in the back, his head resting on the door, while John was in his car seat in the passenger seat. A gun was hidden against her back, another on her lap and she had two knives hidden against her hips beneath her shirt, deliberately chosen to hide her weapons. She had taken to all of the weapons with surprising ease, but she supposed her knowledge of what was coming helped to motivate her._

_A man carrying a shotgun clambered out of the trailer as she pulled to a stop. Sarah left John in the car with the gun she'd had on her lap, and stepped out with her hands raised peacefully._

"_¿Tu es Enrique Salceda?" she asked in Spanish, not daring to move too far from the car and her son in case she needed to make a run for it._

_He looked at her with a suspicious expression. "Soy yo," he confirmed with a curt nod. "¿Qué quiere un mujer americain conmigo?"_

_Sarah's Spanish had vastly improved from the rudimentary amount she learned in high school over the last year, and she easily interpreted his gruff question. What does an American woman want with me? _

_She gave a sharp smile. She'd already figured out from her questions about him that using her feminine wiles (as she had fallen into the habit of doing since being released from the hospital after Kyle) would do nothing. Salceda was a devoted husband, and experienced enough to see through any attempts of hers to manipulate him. _

"_Estoy aquí para aprender del mejor," she replied, eyes glinting dangerously._

_Salceda scanned her, his eyes resting on her legs. Or rather, on the long scar left on her right leg by the Terminator. Then he lowered his gun, and gave a brisk nod. "Hablaremos dentro," he offered._

_Sarah nodded in agreement, going to get her infant from his booster seat._

_**May 12**__**th**__**, 1984 (altered timeline)**_

When John and Kyle came hurrying around the corner, Sarah was spraying something on Pops' arm, which had been stripped of its' flesh by the acid. She glanced up at the sound of their footsteps, a flicker of relief flashing over her expression before it went back to neutral and looked back down at the metal arm.

"Mom," John sighed in relief. "You good?"

Part of him still felt like he was stuck in a dream. The only thing that convinced him that it was reality was the fact that Pops was there rather than Kate. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch Sarah, to feel his mother's strong arms embrace him again. But he wasn't about to do that. Connors were not an emotional family. He didn't want to give her the impression that he was weak, or something. He felt like a young child again, desperate to make his hard mother proud of him.

Sarah stepped away from her protector and forced a smile. She was sure that it looked as fake as one of Pops' smiles. She rarely smiled, and it was even rarer that the expression was genuine. But she gave it her best shot, for John's sake. It was her responsibility to worry about John, not the other way around.

"Fine," she promised. "You?" She cast Reese, standing silently beside her (their) son, a quick look to include him in the question. Only because any injuries would hamper the mission, she told herself. No other reason.

As they spoke, Pops walked off, leaving the humans alone.

"We're good," John responded as the Terminator left, running a hand over his short hair. "So," he began, switching the subject. "If you're remotely like the version that raised me, and frankly, so far you've been pretty much exactly the same except for the age, you've got a plan in mind to stop J-Day. What is it, and how can we help?"

"What?" Kyle blinked, glancing between the mother-son pair in surprise. "Stop Judgement Day?"

Sarah's face lit up with a wild, determined and desperate look. It was an expression that John had seen a thousand times growing up.

The version of Sarah that had raised him had tried everything she could to prevent J-Day. In the end, though, her efforts simply hadn't been enough. Skynet hadn't even existed when she first started trying to warn people about it. She had been a criminal, a college drop-out and a single mother. Her warnings had been dismissed and scoffed at as the ramblings of an insane woman.

John had never revealed to anyone, even Kate, how damaged Sarah had been by it all. How many times had he woken up to the sounds of her sobs, muffled by the pillow? Her whimpers that she wasn't insane, and oh god, what am I going to do? Why John, why him?

She'd always told him that none of it was his fault, but John knew that was bullshit. Yes, the good of the many outweighed the good of the few. He really did believe that. But that didn't change the fact that he had been prepared to send his father and best friend to his death, and cause his mother to be traumatized and forced into a life as a fugitive. The worst part of his childhood had been the tears that Sarah had always denied shedding.

"If the past can change, then so can the future," Sarah explained as she led them towards a descending staircase, her green eyes glinting excitedly. "We can stop Judgement Day from ever happening. Pops and I've been working on this for years."

"Stop Skynet before it's born," Kyle mumbled, earning himself matching looks of bemusement from Sarah and John. It was obvious, with the two of them beside each other, how much the leader of the resistance had been influenced by his mother.

"How?" John asked, turning back to his mother as they passed a large tub where the T-800 sent to kill Sarah was dissolving in yet more acid. He wondered for half-a-second where Sarah and Pops had gotten it all, then dismissed it as irrelevant. "Mom, we tried to stop J-Day for my entire childhood," he told her seriously. "It didn't work."

Sarah grimaced, inclining her head in acknowledgement. "I know," she said heavily. Her expression turned dark for a minute. "Pops has a lot of information about my life in the original timeline. I know that I couldn't stop Judgement Day from happening then. But it's different this time. I only had Cyberdyne's name and the date then. Now I have so much more. I know that Dyson is the one who created Skynet in the first place, as well as when the military takes the contract, so on. And, of course, there's this."

Her tone was smug as she waved at the Time Displacement Equipment that was set up in the underground room. John's eyes widened in amazement and Sarah blinked slightly when she saw the matching expression on Reese's face, though the sergeant quickly gained a sceptical look.

"Is that a Time Displacement Device?" Kyle asked. "It looks like a piece of junk."

Sarah glowered at him, heading over to Pops to examine the control panel they'd cobbled together.

"You built this?" John stated with wide eyes. "But how will you get it to work? The tech from this time isn't compatible-"

"That's why we needed to wait for the T-800 to come," Sarah interrupted. "Its' CPU will make the TDE work, but only once. The power'll fry the chip," she explained. "And most of the LA power grid," she added quietly. She looked at the two men thoughtfully, scanning her son.

"I'd originally planned to go straight away," she said slowly. "But now I think that we should wait for tomorrow. The two of you can shower and rest, and John's injuries can have a couple hours to heal. Not much I know, but-"

"We could go now," John offered, as eager as his mother to prevent J-Day. "I've fought in worst states then this."

"Wait," Kyle cut in. The Connors and Pops all looked in. A lesser person would've quailed under the gazes, but Kyle barely batted an eyelash. "We can't go to 1997," he announced. John gave him a stunned look while Sarah's temper flared, her fists clenching.

"Look Reese, you may be willing to stand back and let billions die, but I'm not!" she spat at him furiously, not letting him defend himself. "I'm not gonna be locked in a room 'til I give birth. This is the only way to stop Judgement Day before it happens, and I-"

"Sarah!" Kyle called. He'd tried to speak several times already, but his words had been lost in Sarah's rant. This time, however, she paused to scowl at him. John stayed quiet, frowning at his parents.

"You're right," Kyle stated plainly. Sarah paused to stare at him with a surprised expression. "But we shouldn't go to 1997," he continued. "No, we need to go to, October, 2017." His voice had a strange tone to it, and he stumbled over the date.

"2017?" John repeated, his eyebrows going up.

"That's too late, that's after Judgement Day," Sarah said tightly.

"The war was well underway by then," John agreed. "Hell, 2017 was the year we met."

"I know, I know," Kyle nodded. "But, Sarah said that history's changed, right? Well, that has too."

"How do you know?" John tilted his head and crossed his arms, while Sarah continued to scowl.

"John, Sarah...," Kyle began slowly, trying to sort out his thoughts. "Look, I've seen a world where the bombs never fell. All right? The same house. The same parents. It was the same me, only I was... I was home. It was my 13th birthday."

"A dream of having your family back doesn't mean a damn thing," Sarah told him bitterly, pain flashing in her eyes. "Trust me."

"It wasn't a dream, all right?" Kyle insisted. "It was a memory. I can't hold on to all of it, just moments, but I was given a message. "You can kill Skynet before it's born." "Skynet is Genisys." It comes online October 2017. And when it does, Judgement Day happens."

"I hate to doubt you Kyle," John said. "But I didn't have any visions of alternate timelines while I was time travelling."

"The boy is the alternate timeline version of him," Pops interrupted from the control console. "Kyle Reese is remembering his own past, which is our future."

"Oh, well that's just fucking fantastic," Sarah scoffed disbelievingly. "How can he be remembering two timelines, and why didn't John get those memories as well?"

"It is possible if Kyle were exposed to a nexus point in the time-flow when you were in the quantum field. If John Connor was not in the quantum field, he would not gain his alternate memories."

John frowned deeper in confusion, while Kyle glanced at Sarah.

"Can you stop him talking like that?" the young man asked. "Is there a switch or something?"

Sarah huffed and gestured at her guardian. "Pops, try again."

"A nexus point is an event in time of such importance that it gives rise to a vastly different future."

"After John was attacked, when I was in the sphere, that's when the memories began," Kyle exclaimed.

"The attack on John Connor led to his coming back in time, and also allowed Skynet full control of that particular timeline," Pops agreed. "That event would be sufficient enough to alter the course of reality. It is likely that the T-1000 was sent to 1973 after John Connor's escape. Theoretically."

Sarah flinched at the mention of the T-1000, and John bit his bottom lip, guilt flaring in his chest. His mother had told him repeatedly that her grief and his father's death weren't his fault. But he knew that she was lying to make him feel better. Her life had been ruined because of him. And now, even her childhood had been stolen from her. It hadn't escaped his notice that she hadn't mentioned his grandparents, and that the T-1000 had gone after her as a child. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened to them.

"Or "theoretically" his brain's scrambled from when you hit him on the head," Sarah's voice distracted him from his brooding.

Kyle stepped closer to her, wearing a pleading expression. He'd already figured out that Sarah was now in charge, not John. There was no way in hell that John Connor would ever even _think_ to go against his mother, not when he'd always talked about her like she was some all-knowing goddess. He had to convince her.

"Sarah! I don't know why I'm remembering a life I never lived. But I know it's real," he begged her.

Sarah hesitated for a moment before shaking her head decisively. "No," she declared firmly. "We go to 1997."

Kyle bit his lip, frowning.

John stepped forward. "Mom, Kyle wouldn't suggest this unless he was absolutely certain," he offered carefully. Sarah shook her head again, though her tone wasn't as sharp.

"No, John. I won't risk it. We only have one sho-Reese, put that back!" While Sarah had been looking at her son, Kyle had snatched the CPU. The young woman instantly raised her gun, pointing it at his chest with a wild look. John started forward a step before freezing, trying to figure out a way to get the weapon away from Sarah before she shot Kyle. His odds weren't looking good.

"I can't let you do this," Kyle declared determinedly, eyes fixed on the woman. Despite the circumstances, he paused a moment to think that she really was as strong and beautiful as John had always said that she was.

"I don't know you," Sarah snarled. "But that is my one bullet to fire at the heart of Skynet. _Give the chip back_."

"You have to trust me," Kyle told her seriously.

"No. I don't."

Kyle stepped closer to her, until the gun was directly against his chest. Slowly, he took her head and traced a line across her palm. "You can do this. A straight line. You just go, and you don't look back."

Sarah's eyes shone with unshed tears at the words, though John didn't recognize them. "Where did you hear that?"

"In a past I shouldn't remember," Kyle replied. "But I do."

Sarah lowered her gun slowly, and John's shoulders slumped in relief. "If we go to 2017, then what?" she asked hoarsely.

"Skynet's a computer program," John stepped forward, gaining his parents' attention. "As long as it's still being coded, it's contained. Once it's uploaded from the servers, it can't be stopped."

"So we blow it the hell up," Sarah's voice still shook slightly. The two men gave her matching smiles.

"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "We blow it the hell up."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Eight**

_**May 21**__**st**__**, 1984 (original timeline)**_

_It had taken some palm greasing that she didn't really have the money for and calling in several favours with her dad's old Army buddies before she could get Kyle a funeral, and even then, she couldn't get him a full honours funeral. But she was able to get him an Army funeral, at least. He deserved to be honoured for everything he had done. There had never been a braver, more compassionate and loyal man._

_Of course, Kyle didn't exist yet, so she was the only person, along with the escort, to attend. Despite the small attendance, the ceremony was lovely. Sarah was almost relieved to be the only guest there. She'd been dealing with sympathetic and awkward "I'm sorry for your loss"s since being released from the hospital. It was taking all her strength to keep from breaking down at the thought of everyone who'd died for her and her unborn son._

_The ceremony, although respectful of Kyle, didn't come close to being enough. She supposed that nothing ever would._

_The priest and the escort all left when it was over, leaving her alone at the gravesite. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she limped closer on her crutches. Hidden beneath her black coat (that she was wearing for the fourth time, to the fourth funeral in less than a week. Thankfully, it was also the last one), her newly-bought pistol was an unfamiliar, yet comforting, weight against her hip._

_The gleaming headstone shone dully. Fittingly, the sky was overcast and grey. It suited her dark mood. _

"_Kyle," she whispered, crouching beside the grave as best she could. Her leg throbbed but she ignored it, reaching out to brush her fingers over the shining new letters that spelt out Kyle Reese. _

"_I'm pregnant," she admitted aloud, speaking the words for the first time. Technically, it was much to soon to tell. But Sarah **knew**. She didn't know how she knew, but she was positive that John Connor, future Saviour of Humanity, was growing inside her stomach at that moment._

_It hurt to say it aloud, and that just made her feel worse. The revelation that she was pregnant shouldn't have been a painful one. She shouldn't have been telling her lover's headstone about their coming child instead of the man himself, nor should she be clinging to anger to keep from breaking down in despair. She knew that if she let herself give in to the grief and terror and uncertainty, she would lose herself in it. She didn't have time for that. She had a deadline._

_August 29__th__, 1997 might seem to be a long time, but Sarah knew that it would fly by._

"_I'm pregnant," she repeated, placing a hand protectively over her abdomen. "I guess that now we know why John agreed to let you be the one to come back, huh?" _

_She choked off, her throat closing over. Her son, to save the fragments of humanity and ensure his own conception, would be forced to send his own father to die. It was so fucked up, all she wanted to do was scream herself hoarse._

"_I don't know what to do," she whispered. "I'm so frightened Kyle." An understatement. She'd been terrified ever since she'd heard the news report announcing that two women with her name had been murdered. The only peace she'd found were those short hours in Kyle's strong arms._

"_I'm sorry," she whimpered, feeling tears fall, despite her best attempts to hold them back. "I'm so sorry Kyle. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry."_

* * *

_**May 12**__**th**__**, 1984 (altered timeline)**_

Despite John's claims, Sarah had put her foot down and declared that they would wait until morning to leave. Then she'd guided the two men to the bathroom, handed over some clothes that probably belonged to Pops, and left them to get cleaned up.

Kyle eyed his friend as they dried off. He felt ridiculously clean. He didn't remember the last time that he'd had soap available to wash, if he ever had. It was strange. But he couldn't focus on the weird feeling of cleanliness. He was too worried for John. He was acting strangely, and Kyle didn't think that it was because of his capture.

"How are you?" he finally asked.

John, who was adjusting the ill-fitting shirt Sarah had given him, stiffened. "Fine," he answered curtly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Kyle huffed. Now that he'd met Sarah, it was obvious that John's aversion to emotions came from her. And it was equally clear to Kyle that the other man was in one of his moods, meaning that getting him to talk would be like pulling teeth. But he felt it was his duty as John's most trusted soldier and friend to do so.

"Maybe because your mother is alive again?" Kyle suggested. Kyle's own parents were entering their teens right about now. It was strange to think, but his memories of them were fragile and coloured by time.

John, however, had always obviously vividly remembered his mother. And Kyle had picked up on how much he missed her over their conversations. He couldn't imagine what John was feeling.

John's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand over his short hair. "She's just like I remember her being," he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically fragile.

Kyle was mildly surprised that John was speaking so easily, but he had been raised not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he stayed quiet, least John go silent again.

"I mean, she's obviously younger and everything," he continued. "But she's so, so _her_. You know?"

"I think so," Kyle agreed cautiously.

"I didn't have much time to think about it, when I decided to come back in time," John went on. "But I guess that I assumed she'd be the way she described herself being before she was attacked by the Terminator. It probably would've been easier, because she was so different then. But no. It's her. She doesn't just _look_ like Mom, she _is_ Mom. I feel like a little boy again, wanting her to fix everything for me."

"There's nothing wrong with that, John," Kyle assured him gently. John, despite the front he put on for the Resistance, was only a man at the core of it. He was allowed to be vulnerable sometimes.

John sighed and rubbed his face scar tiredly. "I expect you've figured out about me knowing that you'd be time travelling by now," he said, glancing away.

Kyle nodded slowly. He felt dumb not to have figured it out earlier, when he was preparing to travel back. In his defence, he'd been concentrating on planning out how'd he'd locate Sarah and convince him that he wasn't crazy. Putting the puzzle of John's foreknowledge together hadn't really been a priority at the time.

John gave him an apologetic look. "I didn't want to manipulate you," he insisted. "But if I hadn't, then I thought we'd all die because Mom would be killed, and she wouldn't be warned about J-Day. I-"

"John!" Kyle cut him off, reaching out to grab his friend's arm to quiet him. "I get it," he promised. "I'm not upset or anything. And I get why you didn't warn me. Don't worry, okay? I'm not upset."

John swallowed and nodded. "You're a good man, Reese," he said gruffly. Then, before Kyle could reply, he switched topics. "I'm sorry about Mom, by the way. She's just. She's not great with people. She's focused on stopping Judgement Day, you know? It's not anything to do with you. She was bad enough in our timeline, when she was raised with humans. I can only imagine it's even worse in this one, with her having been raised by a Terminator."

Kyle grimaced and nodded. Truthfully, he was hurt by Sarah's cold attitude towards him. He, like most in the Resistance, had always idolized the legendary woman. His awe towards her had been even deeper than most, increased by the extra stories he heard from John, the ones that turned her from a flawless warrior goddess to an actual person.

"What should we do about Pops?" he grimaced as he said the name. Naming a Terminator. It was crazy. What was next, the thing developing feelings?

John grimaced and crossed his arms. "Definitely keep an eye on it," he stated. "But Mom trusts it. It's been looking after her for years, and it seems to follow her orders. That being said, it might have some orders programmed in that'll cause it to turn on us. Be on your guard around it."

Kyle would've preferred to destroy the thing straight away, but he acknowledged John's decision. "If you're sure," he murmured.

"I am," John answered simply.

There was a knock at the door, causing them both to reach for guns they didn't have in surprise.

"Yes?" John called, stepping towards the door.

"You two done in there?" Sarah called. "I've got pancakes made."

John's eyes lit up in delight. He had loved Sarah's cooking, and pancakes had always been his favourite. Sarah teaching him to cook had been one of the 'normal' activities they'd done together.

Sarah herself had learned from his mother when she was a child, and she'd put a lot of effort into making him delicious meals. In hindsight, she'd probably wanted to ensure that he had good food related memories before he was reduced to surviving on rats.

Some of his fondest memories involved being curled up beside her eating pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and strawberries while Sarah read the Wizard of Oz to him in Spanish. Or else she'd sing Rocketman to him. Her singing voice was awful, but he'd still loved to see the relaxed (or at least, as relaxed as Sarah ever was) expression on her face.

"Brilliant," he agreed enthusiastically. "We'll be out in a sec."

"D'you need me to take a look at your injuries?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.

"No, I'm good," he assured her. Kyle had finished off the first-aid that Sarah had been forced to leave undone already. He opened the door, revealing Sarah in a fresh, dark green tank top and black cargo pants with a handgun holstered at her thigh.

She even dressed the same, he realized with a pang. He'd known that he'd missed her, but he hadn't realized just how _much_ he had missed her until he was with her again.

She smiled at him, the same tired but loving smile she'd given him as a child. It made him hope that she might be accepting him. Even though they wouldn't have the same relationship as when he was growing up, he'd take it.

"Great," she murmured. "C'mon then. You look like you could do with some food."

Kyle trailed behind the pair as they made their way to the kitchen area. To both men's relief, Pops was missing from the room. Three plates were laid out on the rickety plastic table, with a stack of freshly made pancakes on each. A bottle of maple syrup, a bowl of cut strawberries and a jug of water and some mismatched cups were set out as well. John inhaled and exhaled, fighting back the stinging in his eyes at the sight.

Sarah picked up the plate with the smallest stack and snatched the syrup to pour it over them. "Dig in," she instructed. "You're no good to anybody if you collapse from malnutrition. I can make more if you want some."

She was a bit surprised at herself, really. She had assumed that her childhood would've stomped her maternal instincts out of her, or at least that she would feel more awkward about her son being older than her. But no, treating John like her son seemed to be coming naturally. And she really was worried about how thin he was, even if she understood the reasoning. The only reassurance was that, once they'd stopped J-Day, they'd never have to worry about that stuff again.

Except that won't erase this John's suffering, will it? A dark voice mocked her from the back of her mind. She hid her scowl by shoving a bit of pancake into her mouth. They'd deal with that later, she told herself firmly.

John followed her orders, pouring the syrup over his pancakes and taking some of the strawberries. Kyle, looking uncertain, copied him. His eyes went wide as he took his first bite, and he swiftly dug in, amazed by the taste. John, meanwhile, was almost overwhelmed by childhood memories as he ate the pancakes.

"Just like I remember," he mumbled, not realizing that he was speaking aloud until the others gave him surprised and confused looks.

"What is?" Sarah asked.

He paused and shrugged awkwardly, looking away. "You," he admitted.

Sarah bit her lip, and glanced down at her plate. "Well," she said after a moment. "Do either of you want anymore?"

The two hesitated before John reluctantly shook his head. "Probably not a good idea," he sighed. "If we eat too much, we'll get sick."

Sarah grimaced and nodded, picking up the dirty dishes and dumping them into the sink. "Alright," she sighed, wiping a hand over her forehead. "Then we should all get some sleep. We leave as soon as everybody's up in the morning."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Terminator series. BTW: to anybody interested, I've just started a new Terminator fic. Basically it's a rewrite of the original movie, with Sarah more like her Judgement Day and Genisys characters, instead of the screaming girl she was for most of it. Check it out if you like.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_**June 3**__**rd**__**, 1984 (original timeline)**_

"_Miss Connor," Sarah clenched her hands into fists beneath the table at the tone. _

_It was a mixture of pitying and condescending, and she'd heard it so many times over the past few weeks, she was ready to punch the next person who used it to speak to her into next week. She could do too._

_The first thing she'd done after being discharged was start self-defence classes, and she'd taken well to them, even with her left leg still in a cast._

"_Are you sure that this is the right time to be making decisions?" her course advisor, Martin Sands, asked. "After all, you've just suffered a series of very traumatic events. No one could blame you for wanting to take a break from everything, but you've worked so hard. It would be such a shame for you to throw away all of your potential on an impulse."_

_Sarah exhaled slowly through her nose, trying to keep from losing her temper. A large part of her had just wanted to flee across the border the moment she was released from hospital, but she had to tie up her lose ends first. The funerals, for her friends, mother and Kyle, had been the most important. But babies cost money, as did living on the run, meaning she needed to liquidize all of her assets so she'd have enough to survive on. _

_Thankfully, this meeting to withdraw from college and get her tuition fees for the coming year reimbursed, and the final meeting with her mom's lawyer to sign away her house on Thursday, were the last of it. After that, she would finally be able to escape the city and lose herself in raising John and preparing for Judgement Day._

"_Sir, I appreciate your concern," she said, her politeness as fake as when she was working as a waitress and dealing with a particularly rude customer. Her patience had gone down considerably since destroying the Terminator. It all seemed like such a, knowing how little time she had until Judgement Day. _

"_But I just don't think that continuing my education is the right decision for myself at the moment. I need to get away." _

_The implication, of course, was that she needed to get away from the memories. It wasn't a complete lie. She was feeling haunted by ghosts of Ginger, Matt, her mother, and even Kyle, despite their short relationship. But the main reason she needed to get away was to get off the grid. Sarah Connor had to cease to exist. There could never be any digital records of John Connor. It was the only way to ensure they survived._

* * *

_**Los Angeles: May 13**__**th**__**, 1984 (alternate timeline)**_

Early the next morning after breakfast, Sarah found herself alone with Reese in the makeshift changing room. They were preparing for their hop to 2017. Both of them had finished their showers already, and John was currently taking his own.

She summoned her courage and spoke up. "He's, different, from what I expected," she commented.

"Who is?" Reese asked. "John?"

"Yeah," she nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I mean. Pops had all of these files on John Connor, the military leader. But nothing on him, you know? I had to try and guess what he was like. I suppose I just assumed that he'd be, I dunno, more like me."

"From what I've seen and what he's told me, he is a lot like you," Kyle replied sincerely.

Sarah considered that, wrinkling her brow. She didn't think that he was right, except for their features. John clearly favoured her, though his height and a few other small details had definitely come from Kyle. But her son's emotions seemed to shine out of his gaze, while Sarah sometimes felt as if she was completely separate from her own. She wasn't sure if that was due to her being raised by an emotionless machine, or if she was just depressed.

Either way, it was very obvious that John cared deeply, whilst Sarah had selfishly allowed countless people to die in her place over the past decade of living on the run from the T-1000. Her son was a good person, and she was not. It was as simple as that.

"Tell me about him?" she asked softly, hating how vulnerable she felt. But her son had been a concept, the entire reason for her existence, for over a decade. And yet, she didn't know _him_. But she wanted too, desperately. She'd listened to and memorized everything Pops could tell her about John, but that was limited to his appearance and battle record. She wanted to know John Connor, the man. Not John Connor the military leader.

Kyle was quiet for a moment. He'd picked up on the vulnerable note in Sarah's voice, and he wondered how she felt. To be raised knowing that your child was going to be humanity's saviour couldn't be easy. He couldn't imagine how difficult her life had been, in a very different way to his own. To know that she had to follow a certain path, and sacrifice her son, for the good of the world. It spoke to her strength, that she'd met and risen to the challenge. The least Kyle could do for her was tell her a bit about what a great man she was going to raise.

"The first moment I saw John, he shot a terminator right in front of me when the resistance raided the work camp I was in," he began. "I didn't even know they could be killed. That was the first moment in my life I felt hope.

After that, of course, I followed him around like a stray dog. And he taught me how to fight, how to shoot. Tried to show me how to make moonshine once, but that didn't exactly work out."

"Moonshine?" Sarah repeated, snorting.

"Yeah," Kyle grinned fondly at the memory. "The still exploded, and we burned our eyebrows right off. Man, we laughed for days." He sighed, smiling sadly. "Sometimes I think I'm the only person on the planet that ever saw John Connor smile. Except Kate, of course."

"Who's Kate?"

Kyle winced. "Kate Brewster. They were, well they said they were married, but of course there was no formal marriage in our time. Not like there is now. She was a medic, and killed in an attack while treating some wounded. She was pregnant at the time. That was a little while before I met John."

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath, feeling her heart ache for her son's pain, and the lives of her daughter-in-law and unborn grandchild, cut brutally short by Skynet.

Kyle exhaled heavily, and changed the subject. "He used to tell me about you, you know. How strong you were, and how you prepared him for what was coming when no one thought the danger was real. How there was no one else like you, and there never would be."

Sarah looked down, her hair spilling over her face. She was wearing an oversized shirt belonging to Pops that looked more like a minidress on her, and she gripped it tightly, biting her lip tightly.

"Look... I know I'm not what you expected," Kyle sighed. "But I want you to know, I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You and John. Even if it kills me."

Sarah felt her heart stop, and tears welled in her eyes. She didn't need to hear his promise to know that he would give his life to save her and her son. She'd known about that since she was a nine-year-old child. She'd hoped to keep him from falling in love with her, and vice versa, to save him from the lethal consequences of loving her. But now, listening to him promise to die for her, and hearing the tone in his voice, she feared that it was already too late.

"I'm going to check on John," she announced, trying to hide the hoarseness in her voice. Before Kyle could say anything else, she hurried away, heart breaking as she left.

* * *

John stepped out of the bathroom a second after she knocked, a towel covering his modesty. It didn't cover his scars, though, and Sarah felt her heart ache for him again. It hurt to see the physical evidence of everything he had been through. It also made her determination to stop Judgement Day increase once again.

"Hey Mom," he greeted her. "Is it time to go?"

"Yeah, in a sec," she replied slowly. Absently, she wondered if he realized that he was calling her 'Mom' instead of 'Sarah'. She couldn't deny the warm feeling the title invoked, either.

Sarah paused, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Reese wasn't around to hear, before turning back to her son. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"Your father," she said carefully. "I told you who he was?" She understood why, if he knew, he'd gone through with sending Kyle back anyway. The world needed it. But she wanted to make sure.

John's expression darkened and he glanced down at the floor. "Yeah," he confirmed after a moment. "You did." He paused, looking back at her. He'd just assumed that she knew, but now he wondered. "Do you-?"

"Reese," she cut him off.

John nodded. "Yeah." He saw the look in her eye, and knew what had to be bothering her. "I didn't want to send him back," he insisted, giving her a pleading look. "You never told me the details of how he died, but I knew that he was killed fighting the T-800 sent to kill you. But I had no choice.

If I didn't send him, you wouldn't be warned about Skynet, and I wouldn't be born. The Resistance wouldn't exist. At least not in the form it did in my timeline. And there was no guarantee that, if it did, they would win without the foreknowledge Kyle gave you and you gave me.

I was going to tell everybody the truth afterwards. Make sure everybody understood that he was the reason we won the war. I-"

She cut him off, stepping closer to her son and wrapping her slim, strong arms around him in a firm hug. John fell silent abruptly, savouring the embrace and clutching her back desperately.

For fifteen years, Sarah had been the centre of his world. Guiding him, training him, raising him and loving him. She had been the only constant in his ever-changing life, his strong and all-knowing mother. And despite everything, he had never once doubted that Sarah loved him fiercely. It had been a devastating shock when she'd died.

He'd noticed that she'd been getting thinner, and a bit slower. Had seen her struggle to keep her meagre meals down. But he had never thought it possible that she could die. He had taken her presence in his life for granted, and cursed himself bitterly for it when she died.

Having her arms around him again was a dream come true. Literally.

Finally, they separated, and Sarah reached up to run a hand over his buzz cut. "I'm very proud of you, you know?" she told him. "I'm proud to know that I am, and will be, your mother."

"You don't have to be," he told her earnestly.

He meant it, too. If Sarah decided that she didn't want to have him this time around, he would understand. Being his mother had caused her so much suffering in his timeline. She had always hated the thought of fate, of knowing that the two of them had to follow a certain path to protect humanity. He had hated it as well.

He wanted to spare her that pain.

She frowned at him. "But what would happen to this you, if you weren't conceived?" she questioned. Of course, she fully intended to have him, even if it was incredibly unfair, to say the least, to Reese to have sex with him and yet hold him at a distance. But Sarah had never claimed to be good, or nice.

John shrugged. "This me shouldn't be affected by it," he informed her. "Neither would Kyle be affected by something happening to the him of this timeline. We're separate people. It just means that this timeline won't have a John Connor. And if the plan works, it won't need one, either."

Sarah felt her eyes sting at that. Just as her only purpose in life was to give birth to, raise and train John, John's purpose had always been to save humanity. Neither of them were allowed to live for themselves, and the ones they loved died continuously. It was cruel, but John had it worse, she was sure. Her brave, brilliant son.

John hesitated, remembering the lump he had discovered on his mom's hip while he'd been burying her body. It was possible that she'd gotten it from the radiation, but he doubted it. She had been so careful with both of them, making them wear gas masks and ensuring they had a supply of iodine tablets "Just," he faltered for a moment before continuing. "Remember to go to regular oncologist check-ups, okay?"

Sarah stared at him quietly for a moment, before going up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. She'd already known how she died. She had foolishly asked Pops when and how at ten, and been ridiculously paranoid about doing everything possible to avoid developing cancer ever since. But she was touched by John's warning.

"I want to have you," she promised him gently. "And yes. I'll make sure to go to oncology check-ups regularly. I promise."

John felt his throat close over, and he buried his nose in her lightly-curled brunette hair. She smelled just like he remembered, as well as everything: gun metal and powder, and lavender. She was so like he remembered, he half-wondered if he had replaced the details of Mom with this version of Sarah.

"Sarah Connor," Pops called from the other end of the hall. "John Connor. The Time Displacement Equipment is prepared. You must leave soon."

"Okay, Pops," Sarah pulled away, giving John a quick smile before looking back at her guardian. "We're coming now."

"Time travel makes my head hurt," Kyle was grumbling as they entered, scowling at Pops. John briefly wondered what they had missed, then dismissed it.

"Alternate timelines are not complicated," the T-800 replied mildly. "It's merely a matter of tracking possible futures using an exponential growth and decay algorithm."

Kyle glowered at him. "Right," he bit out. He stepped past, leaning in. "There is a switch, and I will find it," he threatened.

Sarah rolled her eyes irritably as she headed over to her protector and hugged him tightly. He didn't hug her back.

"That is a meaningless gesture," he informed her as she pulled away. "Why hold on to someone when you know you must let them go?"

She didn't answer, simply giving him a fond smile while John and Kyle finished stripping.

"What about you?" she questioned him. "What will you do?"

"Take the long way," he replied. "Prepare for your arrival in 2017." He turned to frown at the two men. "Kyle Reese, I have seen little to indicate that you're a fit guardian for Sarah Connor. I do not understand why John Connor believed you to be an acceptable choice."

Kyle glared back at him. "You know you're not her dad, right?"

Sarah threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "You both just really need to stop this," she insisted.

"Just make sure you show up," Kyle ordered Pops. "I don't want to have to steal someone's pants again."

John smirked slightly at that. "Can't say that I like the sound of that either," he agreed.

"I have the coordinates in San Francisco," Pops replied briskly, pressing several buttons on the controls. "I'll be there."

The two men were standing on the platform, and Kyle reached out to offer Sarah help getting up. She ignored it, shooting him an irritated look, making him sigh in resignation and drop the hand.

Keeping her chest covered with hands, Sarah finally let a hint of nerves slip through her icy façade, looking at Kyle. "What will it be like?"

"You mean if it doesn't kill us all?" he responded, looking at her seriously. "It'll hurt."

"This is going to work," John added, setting his jaw determinedly. "It has to."

Blue light began darting between the columns of the TDE, and the three began rising into the air. Against her will, Sarah cried out. Throwing caution to the wind, Kyle wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him protectively. Let her punch him for it later.

They fell through a blue tunnel of agony, and hit hard concrete. Kyle barely had time to register that they'd appeared in the middle of a busy freeway when he spotted a van heading straight for them. John saw it at the same time, and instinct kicked in for them both.

John rolled left, towards the side of the bridge. Kyle, still holding Sarah tightly, rolled right, to a spot relatively safe from the cars.

As several police cars came speeding up to Kyle and Sarah, trapping them, John caught sight of his mother's Terminator, on the road below. Feeling guilt rise at his actions, and knowing that he'd be no good to his family if he were arrested as well, the resistance leader took advantage of the fuss surrounding his parents' arrest to slip away, heading to meet up with Pops.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Ten**

_**San Francisco: October 15**__**th**__**, 2017**_

Sarah was panting and shuddering in Kyle's arms as he rolled them to safety from the cars. Of course, they'd landed on a damn freeway, and cars surrounded them, horns blaring loudly.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay," he tried to sooth her, angling himself to shield her naked form from anybody watching. "I got you. It's okay. It's okay. It's all right. I got you. I got you. It's okay. I got you."

She didn't reply, looking around with wide, worried eyes, though Kyle wasn't sure if she was looking for John, who he'd spotted rolling the other way and had now disappeared from sight, or for her Terminator, who was nowhere to be seen. Though that was no surprise to Kyle. Machines couldn't be trusted, it was a basic fact of life.

Abruptly, he heard sirens blaring, and soon enough he and Sarah were surrounded by police and being arrested for 'suspicion of terrorism', whatever that was. The only silver linings that Kyle could see were that they were given blankets to cover themselves with, and John hadn't been caught.

"I told you we couldn't trust him," Kyle said to Sarah later, as they were sitting in the police truck, being taken god-knew-where. "At least John wasn't caught."

Sarah clenched her jaw, grip tightening on her grey blanket. "Pops'll find us," she insisted. "I can count on him. He and John've probably already met up."

Kyle frowned at her. "How does a 9-year-old get her own terminator anyway?" he asked. He gave a bitter smile a second later and waved his question off dismissively, anticipating her biting response. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, looking at him with a neutral expression that couldn't fully hide the debate that waged in her eyes, before she cleared her throat and began to speak. "It was back in 1973. My parents owned this lakeside cabin, down in Big Bear. We went there all the time."

* * *

_**The Connor Cabin, Big Bear, California: June 13**__**th**__**, 1973 (alternate timeline)**_

_Sarah grinned happily as she scrambled into the boat. Her mother, Adele, grinned fondly at her, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her daughter's brunette curls. _

"_Enjoy fishing with Daddy, sweetheart," she told her lovingly._

"_I will," Sarah agreed cheerfully. "C'mon Daddy! All the fish'll be gone if you don't hurry up!"_

_He laughed and waved her off. "I'm coming," Jonathan promised. "Just gimme a minute to say goodbye to Mommy, 'kay? Then we'll go."_

_The eight-year-old let out a dramatic sigh, as if waiting an extra minute was the equivalent to an eternity, but contented herself with checking her fishing line while her parents embraced and kissed each other._

"_I'll have some coffee and pancakes waiting for you when you finish," Adele told her husband as she stepped back. _

_It was a relief to have him back in the States where it was safe, instead of off in 'Nam, fighting a war that neither of them supported. But despite their disagreement with the US's involvement in Vietnam, Jonathan was career military, just like his father and grandfather had been before him. When his country called, he went. She dreaded the end of his leave. It was never long enough._

_He smiled back at her as he climbed into the rowboat. "Thanks, love," he replied affectionately. "I'd say we'll be done in about an hour. What d'you think, Sarah?"_

_Sarah glanced up from where she was intently working on undoing a knot that had formed in her fishing line, and flashed a smile as bright as her stripey pink swimsuit at her parents. "That sounds okay," she agreed cheerfully._

_Adele grinned and waved them off as Jonathan pushed the boat away from the small dock. He rowed them to the centre of the lake before stopping._

"_Look, Mommy's waving at us," he said to his young daughter, pointing back towards the dock and cabin. "Wave back."_

_Sarah twisted in her seat and raised her hand to wave back at Adele. She hadn't even finished lifting her arm when the cabin suddenly exploded, the flames taking Adele with it in a flash of red and orange. Sarah screamed, her ears ringing so loudly she didn't even notice._

_Jonathan had nearly gone into shock at the sudden explosion and death of his wife. But training, and fear for his daughter, kicked in and let him regain control. He darted a look around, searching for answers or threats. That was when he noticed the liquid gathering at the bottom of the rowboat. Quickly, he grabbed Sarah and pulled her onto his lap, ignoring how the boat rocked._

"_We're sinking," Sarah whimpered in fear. She was shaking in terror, and Jonathan felt his heart ache in grief for her. But he didn't have time to comfort her. He couldn't spot the hole where the water was coming from, but it was gathering fast. And somehow his leg had been injured. It was bleeding heavily. Maybe his artery. He wouldn't be able to make it to the dock. He had to save Sarah._

"_Sarah, I need you to do something," he said to her urgently. Her green-blue eyes, the same colour as Adele's stared back at him. They were wide and shimmering with unshed tears, but she was holding together with amazing fortitude for a child._

"_O, okay," she agreed shakily, bottom lip trembling._

_Jonathan forced a reassuring smile onto his face, and took her hand in his own, showing her palm. He traced a line across it as he spoke. "I want you to go in a straight line. Don't look back, no matter what. Okay? Remember that I love you." He didn't want her to see him die. She'd already seen Adele's death, she didn't need to see him go too._

"_What about you?"_

"_I'll be fine," he lied. _

"_I'm scared," she sobbed. "Come with me!" _

_Her pleas broke his heart, but he steeled himself. This was her only chance. He grasped her cheeks and lifted her face to look at him._

"_You can do this," he insisted. "Swim in a straight line. You go and you don't look back." Again, he traced the line across her palm._

_Sarah nodded, her tears spilling over and he pulled her into one last, desperate hug, pressing his lips to her curls. The liquid was up to his ankles now._

_Hastily, he lifted Sarah out of the boat and placed her in the lake, the effort making his weakening limbs shake heavily. She quickly turned and began swimming towards the dock, and Jonathan said a silent thank you to God that she was such a strong swimmer. _

_He was so intent on his child, he never saw the liquid form itself into a humanoid shape, nor did he spot it turn its' arm into a spear. But he felt the pain as it stabbed the spear through his heart, killing him almost instantly._

_Sarah followed her father's instructions, swimming to the dock without glancing back, even when she heard her father cry out suddenly before falling silent. Once she reached the dock, she hid beneath it, shivering from cold and fear. When she glanced back on the boat, she couldn't see Daddy, but she could see a strange form standing in it. The side of the boat was flecked with red. _

_The figure in the boat was strange, and sinister. It had a humanoid form, but no features. In addition to that, it looked almost like water, but not quite. Almost like liquid metal, she thought._

_A monster, Sarah realized. Terror gripped her as she watched it 'look' from side to side. It had killed her parents, now it wanted to kill her too. And if her father couldn't stop it, she definitely wouldn't be able to. Tears blurred her vision, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs that wanted to escape her._

_The sound of footsteps on the wooden planks made her look up, terrified. Through the cracks in the planks, she could see a tall man with dark hair, in his thirties. He was carrying a large gun and looked even taller and stronger than her father. She could hardly bring herself to breathe, in case she attracted attention. Despite her best attempts, however, the man noticed her._

_He paused in his march towards the end of the dock and looked down at her, then looked back up again. He hefted his weapon, and shot in the direction of the Liquid Monster, the sound making Sarah's ears ring. Then he crouched down, and pulled up the boards of the dock as easily as Sarah lifted her dolls._

"_Sarah Connor," he stated, in a strange, emotionless voice. "I am here to protect you. Come with me." He held out his hands expectantly, but Sarah didn't move, staring up at him with tearful eyes._

_When she failed to come, he added, "I will never let anyone or thing hurt you."_

"_You won't let the Liquid Monster kill me like my parents?" she confirmed quietly._

"_I will not allow the T-1000 to terminate you. My mission is to ensure your survival, and the success of your mission."_

_Sarah didn't understand what he meant, but she knew that she had no real choice in the matter. She reached up to him, allowing him to pick her up out of the lake. And, just as her father had instructed her, she didn't look back._

* * *

_**San Francisco, October 15**__**th**__**, 2017**_

She took a shuddering breath, pushing away the flashback. Kyle's gaze was fixed on her, but she couldn't meet it. Couldn't remind herself that yet another person was going to die for her and her son. "Dad and I would always go fishing in the morning," she continued, her voice slightly hoarse. "Mom would wave to us from the dock. And I was just looking at her when," she faltered and inhaled deeply before forcing herself to go on. "When the cabin exploded. I thought the boat was sinking, you know, but it wasn't water coming up from below, it was liquid metal."

"The T-1000," Kyle muttered. She gave a small nod, clutching at the blanket like a lifeline.

"Dad told me to swim in a straight line, tracing his finger across my palm," she went on. "'You can do this,' he said. 'You go, and you don't look back.'" She gave Kyle, who's eyes had widened in surprise and understanding, a searching look. "His last words to me," she murmured. "And you... You knew them. How?"

He shrugged helplessly. "It's an impossible memory," he replied. He genuinely couldn't give a better answer, though he could expand a bit. "I... I just remembered you taking my hand, and then saying those words. And I was just looking at you, thinking, 'She's...She's beautiful.'"

He'd been thirteen at the time, which was impossible. He hadn't met Sarah Connor at that age. He'd never even heard of the Connors, though he'd heard once or twice about a forming resistance, something he'd dismissed as a fantasy.

He noticed Sarah stiffen, and look away uncomfortably. His own gaze fell to the floor. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd never been particularly good at hiding his feelings, and he'd never regretted that more. He was being very obvious how much he cared for Sarah, and it was obvious that it was making her uncomfortable, the last thing he wanted to do.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have... So your dad told you to go, and then..."

"I swam to the dock," she explained. "And I hid under it. Pops found me. And he pulled me from the water. And he said that he would never let anyone hurt me. He's the only person who has always been there."

She had leaned in towards Kyle as she spoke, trying to explain why Pops meant so much to her. He was the only constant in the never-ending roadtrip that was her life. And, unlike anyone else whom she cared for, Pops wasn't capable of dying, and his programming wouldn't let him abandon her willingly. She could rely on him.

"Except he's not a person," Kyle's voice was gentle, but determined. "All right? He's a human-shaped thing that's been designed, programmed to gain your trust."

Sarah leaned away from him again, her cheeks flushing in frustration. "Look, if Pops wanted me dead, I'd be dead," she declared bluntly.

"This is what they do, all right?" Kyle pointed out. "They infiltrate, they get close. Your "Pops" could have directives built in he doesn't even know about."

"Just because you two don't get along," Sarah began, only for Kyle to interrupt her, his own frustration beginning to show. "It's not about getting along! This is about keeping you alive."

"Yeah, well, I was raised by a machine to kill cyborgs and survive the nuclear apocalypse," she spat back at him. "I think I'm doing just fine, thanks."

The both of them sat back in their seats, frustrated expressions on their faces. They spent the rest of the journey to the hospital in a tense silence.

* * *

John had felt terrible about leaving, but he knew that letting himself get caught alongside his parents would only make the situation worse. He'd managed to catch Pops' attention, and they'd signalled a meeting place (at least, John hoped that they were using the same hand signals Sarah had taught him in his timeline, otherwise there could be even more problems.). Thankfully, when he arrived on the street below, Pops was waiting with a bundle of clothes.

"John Connor," Pops greeted him as he held out the clothes. "Is Sarah Connor unharmed?"

Credit where credit was due. Pops was definitely focused on his mother's protection, even if John still couldn't fully trust him. Distasteful things were sometimes required for the sake of the greater good. This was one of those things.

"She seemed fine, though I don't think time travelling a second time is on her bucket list," John replied dryly. Not that he liked the thought of doing so again either.

"Affirmative," Pops nodded. "We must retrieve Sarah Connor," he paused then added. "And Kyle Reese also. Kyle Reese is required until he mates with Sarah Connor."

John grimaced in horror at that statement, feeling a deep wave of sympathy for his mother. How long had she been hearing that sort of thing? He was amazed that she hadn't just shot him and Kyle both when she'd seen them, growing up hearing that sort of thing.

"Don't, don't talk about my parents mating, or, or anything related to it," he half-ordered, half-begged the Terminator. "Anyway, we need to figure out where the police took them."

"Yes," Pops agreed. "I will connect to the police network in the car. You may drive, however I recommend that you dress yourself first."

"Right," John muttered, accepting the clothes from the Terminator. They were so close to freedom from Skynet, he could almost taste it. It terrified him, because it almost guaranteed that something was going to go wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Terminator franchise.**

**Chapter Eleven**

_**August 18**__**th**__**, 1991 (original timeline)**_

_Eight-year-old John Kyle Connor stared around at the busy marketplace his mother had taken him to. Sarah was standing in front of a dog vendor, haggling over the cost of a small, newborn German Shepherd. Their previous dog, Kane, had injured his paw, rendering him lame. Despite John's pleas, Sarah had decided to sell him and get a new dog to replace him. _

"_Our life is no place for a lame dog, John," she'd reminded him sternly. "We need to have a dog to warn us if another Terminator comes after us, and to defend you if you're attacked. Kane can't protect you anymore." _

_At least, John thought glumly, she hadn't shot Kane, like she'd shot Bruno when John was four. The old dog had gotten sick with something, and Sarah had claimed she was putting him out of his misery. It had been the first time that John had experienced death, although Sarah had always been very frank with him about it, and shown him bodies. It hadn't really sunk in until he'd lost Bruno. If losing a pet hurt so much, then he had no idea how he'd manage when it was his human companions were killed in the war. _

"_You have your dad's heart," Sarah had commented several times. Like every time his father came up in conversation, her eyes shimmered and her jaw clenched. John sometimes wanted to press her for information, but the rare occasion that he did always resulted in her crying, even if she claimed it was dust or whatever in her eyes. And part of him didn't want to know about Kyle Reese. A man who, should their quest to prevent Judgement Day fail, John would one day send back in time to die. _

_He grimaced at the circular route his thoughts had taken, going right back to death. He got why Sarah was such a firm advocate of guarding your heart. Loss was terrible, and it was the living who had to deal with it._

_He'd always have his mom, though, he comforted himself. Sarah was indomitable. Not even death could defeat her, he was sure about that._

_Sarah finally turned away from the man, who had a bemused and disappointed look on his face. Although the sign in front of the dog cage said each puppy costed ten dollars, the man held a single fiver. Sarah, on the other hand, looked pleased as she cradled the puppy to her chest. "Come on, John," she instructed him, and he followed her obediently._

_He continued to brood over death as they made their way back out of the busy marketplace. _

"_Connors are survivors, kiddo," Sarah had said to him a thousand times. Her green eyes had shone with a look he recognized as her thinking of his father. "But that doesn't mean that the people we love are." _

_John hoped that he never fell in love. When he compared the picture of the happy young woman Sarah had been before meeting, falling for and losing Kyle, to his mom, he knew that she had lost a part of herself with his father. John never wanted to feel the pain Sarah felt at Kyle's death. A dark voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he was the one who sent Kyle back in time to die, and that meant that he was the reason for Sarah's grief._

"_Alright." _

_John jolted slightly, realizing that he'd followed his mother all the way back to their Jeep, lost in his dark thoughts the whole way. Thankfully, Sarah didn't seem to have noticed his slip, otherwise he'd've been in a lot of trouble over his foolishness._

_Sarah straightened from where she'd settled the dog into the basket, strapping it into place to keep it from sliding all over the place. She turned to look at him, lifting her sunglasses and putting them into her hair to see him better. A gun was holstered comfortably and clearly at her hip, making people go out of their way to avoid the obviously dangerous woman. Perhaps some had even recognized her as the infamous 'Sarita', the woman who was linked to over a dozen gangs and guerrilla groups._

"_When you get back, you'll be responsible for training the dog to fight," she informed him._

_John felt a stab of nervous excitement. "Me?" he asked. "Really?"_

_She nodded, tucking a loose strand of brunette hair behind her ear. "Yes," she confirmed. "That way you'll have experience training dogs once you start integrating them into Tech-Com."_

_John nodded silently. Of course. Everything Sarah did was for one of two reasons: stopping or preparing for Judgement Day and the War._

_Then something in her phrasing caught his attention and made him frown. "When__** I **__get back?" he repeated. "What do you mean? Aren't you coming with me?"_

_Sarah gave a small smile, the one that she gave when he had managed to please her somehow. John lived for the rare occasions that he managed to achieve it. Of course, "the best isn't good enough" was Sarah's favourite motto. Everybody was depending on him, which meant he had to be better than the best. That he'd managed to satisfy her expectations for once made him want to burst with pride, though he tried to hide it. He couldn't show emotion. _

_It would be bad for morale in the future, if he was worried and his soldiers picked up on it. Or worse, his enemies managed to use his feelings against him. Just because they didn't have any didn't mean they had no understanding of human emotions. A look at history would show the lengths that people would go to for love, and all of that was available on various computers, meaning Skynet would have access to it. Plus any psych studies. So John had to be an expert at keeping his thoughts off his face._

_That being said, Sarah always cautioned him not to try and stop feeling entirely. "Your heart is what separates you from the machines, John," she insisted. "Don't ever lose it." Sometimes she gave him contradicting instructions, and John was always uncertain what to do. Then again, he always felt unsure what to do, unlike his strong mother, who never faltered._

_Not for the first time, he thought that his mother ought to be the 'Saviour of Humanity'. She was the real hero, the one who searched constantly for a way to stop Judgement Day and learned the necessary skills to survive it. John had just been dragged along for the ride._

"_Yes, when __**you**__ get back," Sarah confirmed. "It's your next exercise. You got your knife and gun?"_

_He nodded, resisting the urge to bite his lip. He didn't like the sound of where this was going._

_Sarah nodded in satisfaction. "Good," she said briskly. "Your task is to get back to the trailer by sunrise the day after tomorrow. You're only allowed to travel at night, though you can get supplies and stuff by day. Anything save for lethally injuring a human being is allowed. Questions?"_

"_Why can I only travel at night?" _

"_Because Kyle told me that, in the future, night is safer than day so the Resistance operates nocturnally. Remember? You have to be able to navigate the dark as if its' the middle of the day."_

_John nodded silently, feeling stupid for forgetting that crucial fact. He ran the exercise through his mind again, his stomach clenching tightly. "I can't do it," he muttered it in a burst of anxiety. "I don't know how to get back." _

_He knew where the camp itself was, of course. They'd been there for six months now, an unprecedented amount of time. But they were a particularly successful group of guerrillas, and Pedro, the leader, didn't mind either Sarah's talk of the impending apocalypse or how she brought her young child with her to planning sessions. John actually liked him, which was rare when it came to Sarah's long stream of lovers. Most were assholes who left her bruised. (Never him, though. Twice, one of Sarah's lovers had raised a hand to John that he could recall. Twice she'd shot him and they had left the area immediately. Whatever else she did, Sarah always protected him like a fanatic.)_

_But he'd never been to this marketplace before, as Sarah never went anywhere twice if she could avoid it. And on top of that, he'd dozed on the way, on Sarah's instructions. No doubt that she had done so because of this, he realized._

"_Yes, you can," Sarah answered firmly. "You know why?"_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I'm your mother, and I said that you could."_

_John sighed and nodded. "Okay," he agreed glumly, though he knew that it hadn't really been a choice. Sarah never let anybody defy her. Certainly not her son, future leader of humanity or not._

_She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, whispered a quick "I love you," into his ear, and climbed into the Jeep, driving off without a glance back at her young son, left in her dust with nothing but the clothes he wore and what 'necessities' Sarah had him keep with him 24/7._

* * *

_**San Francisco, California: October 15**__**th**__**, 2017**_

"You really don't want a local?" the nurse asked Sarah sceptically.

She shot him an irritated look. "I'm fine," she bit out curtly.

"Just do what she wants, it's way easier," Kyle advised the nurse, earning himself his own scowl from the brunette woman.

The nurse shrugged indifferently and began stapling Sarah's cut shut. To her credit, she barely reacted after her initial flinch.

Though the two time travellers were staying silent, the nurse wasn't. He was using some strange device attached to his ear to talk to someone. Kyle had heard about cell phones, which had just started coming into prominence when Judgement Day had occurred in his timeline, and he assumed that the ear-device was something like it. The Resistance has used comms, but they were different, clunky and designed to keep from being hacked into by Skynet.

"Yeah," the nurse said. "Yeah, I pre-ordered Genisys weeks ago. Downloading the second the counter hits zero. No way I'm standing in line for it."

The word struck both Sarah and Kyle like lightning bolts. Kyle's head snapped up from where he'd been frowning at the floor and running through various escape plans to stare intently at the nurse, while Sarah pulled away and twisted to look at the man, hitting him with a barrage of questions. "You know about Genisys? How? What is it? Where'd you hear about it?"

She had assumed that Genisys was a military-related project, like Skynet had been in the original timeline. But what the nurse was saying made her think that it was something else. Something public and widespread. Her stomach clenched and she prayed her worry didn't show.

The nurse heaved a beleaguered sigh, saying, "I'll call you back," to whoever he was talking to and pressing the device attached to his ear to turn it off.

"Genisys is an operating system?" Kyle checked. "What does it do?"

The dark-skinned man gave them incredulous looks, like he couldn't understand why they didn't already know this. Apparently, the details of Genisys were commonly known in this timeline. That was unlike the original Skynet, which had been a classified military secret, until the day it had destroyed everything.

"Genisys does everything," the nurse explained to them. "My phone will link to my tablet will link to my computer will link to my car... Everything in my life uploaded and online 24/7. Totally connected."

"Connected to what?" Sarah asked, almost breathless. There was a timer counting down the seconds on the screen the guy had shown them, and her heart stuttered worriedly as she realized that they had less than a full day to stop Judgement Day. And they were separated from John and Pops, being held as terrorists. Terrorism was taken seriously in her time, she doubted that it had relaxed in the decades that had gone by since then.

She cursed mentally, wishing they'd chosen to come several months, or even weeks, earlier. How could they stop Skynet coming online, when she and Kyle were separated from John and Pops, and they only had twenty-nine hours left until Judgement Day?

Before the man could respond, the door opened and two cops in plain clothes came striding in. "Doctors!" one of them barked. "Excuse us, please."

The nurse shrugged and left, shutting the door behind him as the two detectives turned to look at Kyle and Sarah with narrow-eyed expressions.

"You two have a lot to explain," the male cop, a slightly chubby man, declared as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Neither of the pair were even close to intimidated. He looked at Sarah pointedly. "Starting with who _you_ are. Nobody in our database matches your prints. No facial recognition hits for driver's licence, passport, social media accounts, credit cards, not even a goddamn student I.D."

"So?" she shrugged and gave him a 'get on with it' look.

"So that's impossible," the woman informed her firmly. "Somehow you've gone so far off the grid that you don't even exist."

The two turned to look at Kyle. "You, on the other hand, we got a hit when we ran your prints. Kyle Reese. But here's the thing. Two months ago, Kyle Reese was brought in for fighting in a multiplex. His parents flipped, did the whole "Scared Straight" thing, had him fingerprinted, sat him in lockup..."

"Parents?" Kyle repeated blankly.

"Yeah, parents. Kyle Reese was born in 2004. He's 12."

Kyle felt the words hit him like a bullet. The memories of his alternate self flashed before his eyes. His family, his parents and brothers, were alive here. Tim hadn't gotten sick and passed it to his mom while she cared for him, the illness killing them both within a week of each other. His dad hadn't starved to death, giving his food to his remaining boys while they were still too young to realize and understand what he was doing. Derek hadn't died the day their work camp was liberated. They were _alive._

"Of course," he mumbled to himself, speaking aloud unintentionally. "They're here. They're still alive."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure they're not going to I.D. you as their kid," the woman told him dryly.

Kyle felt a sting in his chest at that, but he didn't get the chance to say anything.

Another man, older than John and sloppy-looking, came in. There was a wild expression on his face, and the faint scent of alcohol attached to him. "Except the prints match," he insisted. "Right? It's because he's the same person! He hasn't aged. Not a bit since I saw him in 1984. Her, too. You remember me? I was younger. More hair, less... You saved my life. I was a uniform cop in L.A. Who are you people?"

Kyle met Sarah's eyes, and she directed her gaze to a scalpel left on the side table. One they could use to escape their bonds. Understanding her intentions, he turned and gave his name, rank and id number. Sarah pretended to try and stop him (or she might've genuinely wanted him to stay quiet, it was hard to tell with her) and they faked a fight. In the chaos, Kyle palmed the scalpel and hid it in his tight fist.

Just after they'd been separated, another cop, this one in a uniform, stuck his head in the door and announced that 'Homeland' had arrived to take custody of them.

"Thank god," the lead detective grumbled. "You two are officially someone else's problem. O'Brien, I want to talk to you."

O'Brien followed him, and Kyle felt a jab of sympathy and guilt for the man. "Lieutenant, this is what I was talking about," the slovenly-dressed man begged as he exited. "You've got to believe me now."

"Save it," the other man snapped as they strode out. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

"You were very convincing," Sarah told Kyle icily as she watched him cut his zip-tie bonds with the palmed scalpel.

"Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?" he pointed out dryly as he stood and went over to her. "Don't worry. I didn't mean most of what I said."

He began to try and undo her bonds himself, and she jerked away. "I can get it myself," she snapped.

Kyle huffed and passed her the knife, crossing his arms in frustration. "Me unlocking your cuffs doesn't mean you're not capable," he told her.

He made a mental note to talk to John about Sarah's attitude. There was being guarded, something that was a common trait in soldiers, and there was being stubborn to the point of stupidity. Her insistence on doing everything herself was dangerous, and it needed to be dealt with. He'd seen this similar levels of independence in soldiers before, and it never ended well for them. Sarah wasn't dying, not on his watch.

"I didn't say it did," he said evenly, not mentioning any of his thoughts aloud. No need to intentionally aggravate her even more than he apparently did by existing.

She stood, now free, and gave him an angry look that couldn't quite cover an emotion that he couldn't identify. "And don't think me holding on to you naked meant anything, because it, you know, did not."

He raised an eyebrow at that. Okay, so he'd made it obvious how he felt about her, but he didn't see why she felt it necessary to say that. "I didn't say that it did," he pointed out mildly.

She stared at him for a moment, a frown developing. "You really don't have a clue, do you?" she muttered. From the way she spoke, Kyle got the feeling that she didn't realize she was speaking aloud.

"I don't have a clue about what?" he questioned her.

She stiffened, opening her mouth (no doubt planning to deliver a scathing response) when they heard voices coming from the hall.

"I want to question the suspects myself," a man was saying.

A relieved grin began growing on Kyle's face as Sarah's own neck snapped in the voice's direction. She looked hopeful, but readied her scalpel anyway. After all, it could've been a trick.

The man who entered the hospital room was exactly who Kyle had hoped it would be: John.

He gave a rueful grin as he took them in, lifting a small key to show it to them. "I brought a handcuff key," he informed them. "Dunno why I bothered."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Twelve**

_**Phoenix, Arizona: April 13**__**th**__**, 1998 (original timeline)**_

"_Hush, John!" Sarah snapped at her son in a harsh, but quiet voice, as she clamped a hand over the fourteen-year-old's mouth to keep him silent. The mechanical humming of a HK cut through the ruins of the neighbourhood in what she thought was Arizona, though it was hard to tell with all of the ruins and snow._

_The ruins of civilization were as awful as she had always dreamed they would be. God knew, she had tried everything she could to keep this day from ever coming. But she had failed, and, as Kyle had warned her, the bombs had fallen. _

_The only mercy was that she had lived through it. She had feared for years that she would die in the fires of Judgement Day, abandoning her son to face the war alone. But she had survived, even if she suspected that she wouldn't see him turn eighteen. She wouldn't leave him just yet._

_John clutched his rifle in white-knuckled hands, giving a half-nod. He looked half-feral and dirty, with an ugly cut skimming his temple and hunger in his eyes. They'd encountered a group of scavengers earlier that week, and been forced to fight them over some cans of food. Sarah had hated to do it, especially given that everyone they killed was one less soldier for her son's future army, but there had been no choice. Not between John and a bunch of strangers. _

_Sarah slowly removed her hand from John's mouth and then craned her head over the wall she had dragged him behind. As she had suspected, it was a Hunter-Killer, searching for any free survivors. If they were found, they'd be taken to the work camps Kyle had told her of, and 'orderly disposed of'. _

_Hatred made her heart clench this time instead of grief, but she forced it down. Anger would cloud her judgement, and she couldn't afford that. Not with her son relying on her._

_She slowly unhooked her binoculars from her belt and lifted them so she could observe the machine's movements better. Thankfully, it hadn't noticed them. Yet._

_They stayed crouching, watching in silence as the HK patrolled. It was almost out of range when it stopped. Sarah froze and bit her tongue to keep from cursing as she watched the HK drop a net over several people. When she adjusted the lens, she realized that they were kids, the oldest only John's age at most._

"_Mom," John whispered against her ear. "What do we do? We have to help them."_

_Sarah gripped her binoculars tighter, her chest feeling tight. She was torn, between the need to help the captured children and the need to protect her son, humanity's best hope. She saw the youngest child stumble and fall to her knees in the net, and it settled her decision._

"_Stay here," she ordered John quietly. "I'll do it. Do __**not**__ move, John. Understood?"_

_He looked mutinous, but nodded in resignation._

_Sarah adjusted her grip on her AK-47, double-checking that the clip was full, and crawled away from her son as quick as she could. Thankfully, the current HKs were clumsy and slow, so she was able to get a suitable distance from him before she had to stand up. She aimed her shotgun at the tip of the net, paused to inhale, then fired as she exhaled._

_The net dropped to the ground, flying open to release the four kids. They were quick to untangle themselves and scrambled away in her direction, as Sarah swapped the shotgun for the AK and started firing. _

"_Hurry up!" she bellowed at the kids. She couldn't actually bring it down with these weapons, she was only giving them cover. As soon as they'd gotten level with her, she stopped firing, scooped up the slowest and youngest child, and ran for it._

_John joined them, and they fled to a hole in the ground leading to the sewers. Sarah waved John through first, passing the young girl in her arms to the elder one as she climbed down, and jumped down last, when the five kids were safe._

_They darted further in as the red search-light ran over the hole, holding their breath. Finally, the light left and the thrumming sound of the HK eased. That was when Sarah finally loosened her grip on her gun and surveyed the group in front of her._

"_John, you okay kiddo?" she asked her son, not removing her gaze as she studied the four girls. _

_The eldest was a redhead John's age. Her hair was tangled and she had dark shadows under her eyes. She stood protectively in front of the others, a small handgun in her hands. Sarah guessed that she was the leader._

"_I'm good," John promised, moving to her side. He too studied the silent girls. _

"_You're John Gale," the girl accused, jabbing a finger at him. A wild look crossed her features, as Sarah automatically pushed her son behind her to protect him. "You used to say that this would happen! How did you know?"_

"_Huh?" John blinked. "Do I know you? And it's John __**Connor**__, not Gale."_

_Sarah shot him a reproving look, but let it rest. No point in hiding their identities anymore, she supposed. He had to be General John Connor at some point. Might as well get to work spreading the legend early. It would make it easier to convince people to follow him later on._

"_I'm Kate Brewster," the girl explained. "I went to Westmore with you when we were kids. You used to tell everybody that there'd be a nuclear apocalypse in 1997. And then you were right. How?"_

"_That doesn't matter," Sarah said curtly, before John could let anything slip. Now more than ever, it was vital that they kept the truth about Kyle secret. If Kyle was killed before going back in time. No, she couldn't think of it. The ramifications were too horrific. _

"_Okay, so you're Kate, and clearly in charge of your little group. Who're the others, and what ages are you all?"_

_Kate hesitated before speaking, pointing to each girl as she named them. "Like I said, I'm Kate and I'm turning, I turned. My birthday is the nineteenth of October, and I was twelve when, when the bombs dropped. This is my cousin Savannah Weaver. She's about five. Her birthday is May sixth. These are Allison and Cameron Young. They're twins, and they were about to turn eleven when, __**it**__ happened."_

"_Judgement Day," Sarah told them absently._

"_Judgement Day?" Allison repeated. "Is that what you're calling it? Why?"_

_Sarah studied them. "Do you four know what happened, other than the bombs dropping?"_

_They all shook their heads, looking solemn._

"_Our dads, 'cept Sav, her mom was my maternal aunt. She and her parents were visiting us, were military," Kate explained, her voice shaking slightly. "We were able to hide in a bunker 'cause of that, but. Everybody's gone now. Those machines- They."_

_Sarah nodded, sighing. She sat on the ground, and the others copied her. Savannah crawled into her lap, and Sarah blinked. She wasn't a very maternal person, even towards John, but she had already decided to take the girls with them. It would be difficult, but she couldn't abandon them. And the Resistance had to start somewhere. Why not with these girls, clearly capable enough to survive at least a short while without adults to protect them?_

"_Do you know what Skynet is?" she asked. The girls all shook their heads in denial. Savannah sucked on her dirty thumb, resting her dirty-red hair against Sarah's chest._

"_Skynet was a military project designed, created and built by Cyberdyne Industries," Sarah explained. She could hear the darkness in her own voice. "It was entrusted to run the entire US military. Even the nukes. It was given a mandate of protecting the United States and humanity from threats both within and without. But it's too powerful. It became sentient, and judged all of humanity a threat to its own existence. So it fired the bombs, and the Soviets fired back, thinking we were attacking them. The entire world was destroyed by it, not just the States. The Hunter-Killers, those machines gathering people? They're taking them to work camps, like the World War II concentration camps, to be killed. And the same thing is happening all over the globe."_

"_Oh god," Cam whispered. She and her sister were clutching each others' hands tightly, their matching brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. They were definitely twins, given their identical looks. They would've been pretty, all of them, had the lack of food and hygiene not reduced them to echoes of their old selves. It was painful to see._

"_So, it won't stop," Kate whispered. "Not until we're all destroyed."_

"_Exactly," Sarah confirmed grimly._

_The three were silent for several long moments, before Kate looked up to meet Sarah's gaze, a fierce look in her blue eyes. "Do you know how to destroy them?"_

"_I do, yes. I've been prepping myself and my son for this war his whole life. We tried to stop it, but we couldn't."_

_Kate leaned forward, looking determined. "My parents, my baby brother, my aunt and uncle. My friends, my classmates. All of them were killed because of that damn computer. I wanna make it pay. Teach me. Please."_

"_Us too," Allison and Cameron added, after exchanging a quick look._

_Sarah felt her lips twitch into an echo of a smile. "Welcome to the Resistance, soldiers."_

* * *

_**San Francisco Hospital: October 15th, 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

John grinned at his parents, relieved to see them mostly well. Kyle started to walk over and embrace him, only for Sarah to grab his arm to stop him in place, eyeing John suspiciously.

"Hang on," she chided him. "We all know the T-1000s can shapeshift. We need to check it's really John."

"Sarah," Kyle huffed, but John cut him off before another argument could erupt between them.

"No, Mom's right Kyle. Rule number one, trust no one. I'll prove I'm John, then the two of you do the same, kay?" the pair nodded, Kyle still looking exasperated while Sarah remained tense and ready to run at a moment's notice.

John turned to Kyle first, pausing for a moment before hitting on the right idea. "During the Nacogdoches offensive, I gave you something. It was a photograph of Sarah as she is now. No one saw me do it. We were alone."

Kyle grinned and nodded to Sarah, while John turned to his mother. "You hate lullabies," he informed her, watching her expression soften as he spoke. "You're a sucker for Elton John, and you always thought that if you had a child, you'd sing him Rocket Man. But you've got a terrible voice. I'm sorry, it's true. You sound like a dying cat."

Sarah let out a small laugh, the sound warming John the way it had when he was a child. For the millionth time since he'd gone back in time, he thought of how much he'd missed his mother, and how brilliant it was to have her, any her, back again.

"Your turn," he prompted them.

Sarah hesitated for a second before she spoke. "Kyle convinced me to come to 2017 instead of 1997 by telling me 'you can do this. Just go in a straight line and don't look back'," she told him.

John nodded and looked over at Kyle.

"Right before I went back in time, you gave me a message for Sarah," Kyle told him. "You said to tell her 'Thank you, Sarah, for your courage through the dark years. I can't help you with what you must soon face except to say that the future is not set. You must be stronger than you imagine you can be. You must survive, or I will never exist.'"

"Okay, so we're all the right people," John gave a half-smile before going serious again. "I met up with Pops, he was stuck in traffic just below us. He's waiting with a getaway car in the parking lot. But we gotta hurry up and get out of here. We have less than a day before Genisys goes live. We arrived later than we expected."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, accepting the gun her son offered to her. "We were talking to a nurse. It's some sort of public thing, isn't it? He said that all of his tech would be uploaded to something."

"Pops can brief us," John replied. Kyle made a face at the mention of the cyborg. "But we have to hurry before Homeland gets up here and arrests all of us."

They nodded and quickly lured the two uniforms inside in before knocking them unconscious. Then they slipped out of the room, using the backstairs to get down to the parking lot unseen.

But it wasn't Pops who met them there.

"Skynet!" John cried in warning, lifting his gun as he registered the 'man' waiting for them with its own gun raised. Sarah and Kyle were quick to copy the general and raise their own weapons. Their pale faces were proof of their surprise and fear at the sight of their enemy in its physical form.

Skynet smirked, the expression disturbing the three humans. "John Connor. Sarah Connor. Kyle Reese. Welcome to 2017. I am disappointed John. We could have done so much together, had you not fled."

"Don't speak to my son!" Sarah snapped, outraged (and frightened, though she'd rather die than admit it.) She raised her handgun and shot the machine thrice in the chest. The group was dismayed when the holes simply sealed over again.

"Yes," Skynet murmured, ignoring the attack as its eyes went between the three and narrowed. It smirked, looking disturbingly human, as it realized something.

"Ah, very clever. I must commend you, Sarah Connor. Had I realized your secret earlier, I would have simply killed Kyle Reese, and all the trouble with sending the T-800 and T-1000 after you would've been avoided."

"What?" Kyle blinked in confusion, while the Connors paled.

"Shut up!" Sarah ordered, voice going shrill.

Skynet ignored her, turning to Kyle. "Are you unaware?" it asked him mildly. "Fascinating."

"Unaware of what?" Kyle scoffed, putting up a front of bravado even as his stomach churned at the panic he could see on Sarah and John's faces. Their worry made it obvious they were hiding something, and they thought Skynet had figured it out. Something to do with him.

"Enough!" John demanded. "It doesn't matter. Stop!"

Panic was clawing at his throat. He'd never wanted Kyle to know. Never wanted to risk damaging the relationship he treasured so much. Kyle had been his anchor for years, and he'd feared losing that too much to take the risk. That was the real reason he hadn't admitted their connection, although he'd justified it to himself as trying to preserve the timeline.

Now, though, he cursed his selfishness. If he'd just told Kyle earlier, than they wouldn't be in this situation. Skynet wouldn't be able to use the Connor family secret against them. Now, no matter how Kyle reacted, he would be distracted by the revelation. John cast a desperate look around the parking lot, wondering where the hell the damn terminator had disappeared to.

"Taking time travel and similarities in facial features into account, there is a 99.73 percent chance that Kyle Reese is the father of John Connor," Skynet declared.

Kyle froze, then shook his head in disbelief. He looked at John, then Sarah. They both had stricken expressions on their faces. Memories, of Sarah's attitude towards him, and comments about how similar he and John were from various Resistance members, flashed through his mind. His stomach dropped.

"Th, that's impossible," he croaked. "John? Sarah?"

"I didn't, I couldn't tell you," John whispered, guilt written all over him. "How could I tell you that you were my father? You weren't even a teenager when we met, and I was in my thirties. I'm sorry, Kyle. I really am."

Sarah was silent, glaring bitterly at Skynet. Then she spotted a familiar figure, just behind the strangely smug-looking machine (how could it fake emotions so well? Or, even worse, did it actually feel? The mere idea made her shudder), and swiftly raised her gun again.

She and Pops fired at Skynet together. Sarah's shots tore through the machine's chest, while Pops aimed for its head. The machine collapsed in a heap when she shot off its' legs, but Sarah could see it beginning to heal even as she watched. They had to hurry if they wanted to escape alive.

"RUN!" she yelled at the two men, racing towards the car where Pops was already climbing into the driver's seat.

Snapping out of his guilt-induced stupor, John grabbed Kyle's arm and hauled the other soldier, still frozen in shock and disbelief, into the truck. They slammed the doors shut and tore out of the lot as Skynet's holes sealed over and it stood up again, firing after them furiously.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Argentina: February 28, 1994 (original timeline)**_

"_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear John, happy birthday to you," Sarah sung as she placed the small cake (vanilla flavoured and covered with chocolate icing) on the table in front of John._

"_Make a wish," she encouraged him with a loving smile. _

_John's birthday, Christmas and Halloween were some of the rare occasions that Sarah put aside thoughts of Skynet, Judgement Day and training to let herself and her son just be happy, regular people. Although she'd never say so aloud, part of knew that she might not manage to stop Skynet's creation. Judgement Day was only three and a half years away. Should the worst happen, she wanted her son to have good memories of his childhood. Not like Kyle, who'd grown up starving and in fear in the work camp._

_She shook the dark thoughts away to clap as John blew out the candles in a single gust of breath._

_The newly turned nine-year-old turned and beamed at his mother. "Can we eat now?" he asked eagerly, making Sarah laugh in amusement, eyes sparkling._

"_Yes, we can eat," she agreed. She reached across the trailer's tiny table and grabbed the waiting knife to slice the cake and serve it. _

"_I wish we could've spent the day with the Salcedas like usual," John murmured, a hint of melancholy darkening his features._

_Sarah winced in guilt. Over the years, Enrique, his wife Jolanda, and their four children had become part of the extended Connor family. They were the only ones who didn't scoff at her warnings of the future. She didn't think they fully believed her, but they helped her. _

"_We'll see them soon," Sarah promised, clearing her throat. She reached out to brush a lock of hair out his forehead. "Next weekend, we'll drive down to visit them after my job's finished."_

_John brightened at that, digging his fork into the cake. They ate quietly for a while, the radio and sounds of them eating the only sounds that broke the silence. It wasn't until they'd finished and Sarah was scrubbing the dishes clean in the kitchen sink that John spoke up, his voice tentative._

"_Mom, can I ask you something?"_

_Sarah turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. "Of course you can," she promised him. "You can always ask me anything, kiddo. No matter what."_

"_It's about, about Dad," John admitted._

_Sarah felt her breath hitch, and tears sprang to her eyes. Even now, it hurt to think about Kyle. To think about their short time together, what might have been in a kinder world, and that he would never know that John wasn't just his mentor and friend, but his son._

_She inhaled deeply and sat back down. As much as talking about Kyle hurt, she would never deny her son knowledge of his father if she could avoid it. There was so much she couldn't tell John about Kyle, but she could tell what she could. _

"_What about him?" she asked softly._

_John looked down at the table for a minute, before looking back up at her. "You only knew him for a few days, right?" he checked._

"_That's right," Sarah confirmed. Three short, fear-and-love filled days._

"_I just," John faltered then spoke in a rush. "I don't get how you can say that you loved him, when you hardly knew each other."_

_Sarah ran a hand through her hair. She hadn't expected that, but maybe she should have. Her son was intelligent, thank god. Partially because of the way she'd raised him, but most of it was innate._

"_I know that I love Kyle because I could breathe when he held me in his arms," Sarah said finally, not noticing that she had used the present tense, though her clever son did, and took note. "I felt safe with him. Knew he would whatever necessary to protect me. And he did."_

"_So, you know you love someone if you trust them?" John checked._

_Sarah paused. It wasn't quite right, but then again trust wasn't something she had raised her son to do. "Yes," she agreed. "If you love somebody, you trust them. Completely."_

* * *

_**San Francisco: October 16th (morning), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

Nobody spoke for the first part of their flight from the hospital and Skynet, everybody lost in their own thoughts. The van was filled with tension, and Kyle's jaw was clenched. He was glaring at the floor of the van, struggling to sort out his feelings about the recent revelation.

John was his son. His best friend, his mentor and surrogate older brother, was in fact his _son_.

More than once, people had commented on the similarities between John and Kyle. But it was mostly personality things, or habits. John clearly took after his mother in looks. Kyle had always blamed it on growing up around him.

Not once had John let on that they were related. Never had Kyle considered the possibility of it.

He felt betrayed, Kyle acknowledged. By both John and Sarah. He got why John hadn't said anything before he had gone back in time. But that neither of them had mentioned anything even after they had gone back to 1984, angered and hurt him. He had the right to know about his son.

"This is going to be harder than we thought," John finally broke the tense silence in the car. "We should've taken the possibility of Skynet going back to protect itself into account while planning. It's been obvious that it was threatened by me go back to the past. We should've thought about it."

"Yeah, it was stupid of us," Sarah acknowledged, twisting in her seat to look at the back where Kyle and John were sitting. "It must be at least a T-1000. Maybe even a more advanced model. And it's unrestricted by programming like a regular terminator would be."

"It must realize what we're planning to do," Kyle finally spoke. He pushed aside his feelings of awe, terror and betrayal. He could worry about becoming a father and how his relationship with John would be affected later. Right now, the important thing was to make a plan to deal with Skynet.

"Pops, do you know anything?" Sarah asked her guardian.

"Skynet's avatar is that of a T-3000," Pops replied, not looking away from the road. "It is the most advanced model of terminator there is. Only one was developed near the end of the war, solely for the purpose of downloading and hosting Skynet's central core."

"I should've known about this," John stated, guilt written across his face. "And I should've realized that Skynet would take advantage of the TDE. This is my fault."

"No," both Sarah and Kyle declared immediately and simultaneously.

"This is not your fault John," Sarah added. "It's Skynet's, and only Skynet's. But this doesn't change the plan. It makes it harder, but our goal is still to destroy Genisys before it can go online."

"But the Terminator version of Skynet won't be affected," John warned. "At least, that's the theory. Once you leave your timeline, you're separate from it. What happens to Genisys won't affect the version of Skynet from Kyle and I's timeline."

"Okay, let's call the version from our timeline Skynet, and the one from this timeline Genisys," Kyle quickly inserted. "This is too complicated otherwise."

"Good idea," John agreed. He shifted slightly, unable to meet Kyle's gaze. He was nervous what he would see if he looked there.

Sarah, seeing her son's discomfort, took over the reins of the conversation again. "Okay, Pops, you said you knew about the avatar," she stated. "What else do you know? Does it have any weaknesses that we can use?"

"Matter coheres using a magnetic field," Pops replied in his usual monotone. "Disrupting that field may trap him."

"Well, I expect that a technology industry like Cyberdyne would have medical equipment," John mused. "If we captured Skynet using an MRI or something, then we could destroy its avatar with acid or something. Like you did with the T-1000 back in '84."

"That's a big 'if'," Sarah noted grimly. "And it took a lot of work to get that acid. Do we have any more, Pops?"

"We do not, however some areas of Cyberdyne would have the required materials," the terminator informed them.

"I don't like this," Sarah muttered. "It's a very unreliable plan."

"Do you have any other ideas?" Kyle asked, his tone sharper than he'd intended.

Sarah didn't reply, settling back into her seat and crossing her arms over her chest as she stared out the window with a brooding expression on her face.

They were silent for the rest of the ride, until they finally pulled up outside an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

"You used to come here with Grandpa didn't you?" John asked curiously as they climbed out of the van. "I remember you stockpiled a bunch of weapons and supplies here when I was a kid."

Sarah nodded in confirmation, slightly surprised that he knew about it, though in hindsight that was stupid of her.

"Dad took me here all the time as a kid," she explained. "It's under my grandmother's maiden name, and nobody else knows about it. Entire rooms are abandoned. That's why I told Pops to use it."

"You have weapons here?" Kyle checked.

"Weapons, supplies, tactical gear, clothing," Pops listed as he crouched beside a manhole and began twisting the wheel to open it. "Including pants, Kyle Reese."

John and Kyle's eyebrows shot up and Kyle looked at Sarah.

"Was that a joke?" he asked her as they climbed down the ladder into a large, underground room. "Can he make jokes?"

Sarah also had a startled look on her face as she shrugged.

She flicked on a light, revealing a large room, filled with enough weapons to supply the entirety of the Resistance on the East Coast. Guns of every type, small bombs and grenades and more were cluttering up the shelves. Several work tables with various supplies of making pipe bombs and dissembled guns were also spread around the room.

John gave a low, impressed whistle. "Well, you definitely haven't been sitting around watching TV all day these past thirty years," he said to Pops, scanning the place.

"Speaking of," Kyle added, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at Pops. "Thirty years," he stated. "Thirty years, and you had one place to be. Where the hell were you?"

"Stuck in traffic," Pops replied. He unzipped a bag that he had carried out of the van and handed a bundle of clothes to both Kyle and Sarah. "Get changed," he instructed them. "John Connor and I will begin preparing weapons to assault Cyberdyne Industries."

They split up, John going to assemble some pipe bombs. He'd been doing it so long that he didn't even have to think about it. It was as familiar an action to him as breathing. Pops began preparing the guns, loading the chambers with ammo. Upon returning in his new shirt and jeans, Kyle joined him.

Sarah, meanwhile, joined her son making the pipe bombs. She paused as she took in the work station, seeing what John had already noticed.

Her beloved portable radio and two pairs of headphones were left waiting on the table for her. Stuck to the wall, was a photo of Sarah at nine. It had been taken right after her parents' deaths and Pops telling her about the future and her destiny, and she wore a solemn expression as she gazed up at the camera. There were a few other photos of her too. Also stuck to the wall were several drawings she'd made as a child.

She glanced at John, who gave her a half-smile, then over her shoulder at Pops. She gave a pleased smile and placed the headphones over her ears. John copied her actions with the spare pair, and they returned to assembling the explosives.

Over at the other table, Kyle and Pops were trying to out-do one another. They put the ammo in the chambers, banged it on the table, and added it to their stacks before repeating the process. Every time they finished with a chamber, they glanced at their companion and increased their speed slightly.

Abruptly, their unofficial contest was ended when Pops' wrist jerked, his gears making a whirring sound as the ammo dropped out of his spasming hand onto the table.

He smacked his wrist against the edge of the table while Kyle watched, reluctantly concerned, and the jerking motions finally ended.

"Old," Pops said quietly to Kyle in explanation, after casting a glance at Sarah to see if she had noticed. She and John had their backs to their companions, bobbing their heads in time to the music.

"But not obsolete," Kyle responded after a moment. He hated to admit it, but he was slowly beginning to trust the cyborg. Slightly.

"All done!" Sarah announced, coming over to them with John at her heels. She paused, seeing the way Kyle and Pops were staring at each other. "What's with you two?"

"Nothing," Kyle replied evenly, looking away from the terminator and towards Sarah (the mother of John, who was _his son_. God, he hadn't volunteered for this shit.)

"Alright then," John nodded. He had an expression on his face that Kyle recognized from God-knew how many briefings. Determined, grim and focused. "We need to plan out our attack."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**Resistance Base, Sacramento: **__**April 14th, 2016 (original timeline)**_

_John leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes and rubbing them tiredly. He should have been going back over the mission reports he had received. Going through the census list of prisoners who been rescued. Even going through the supplies reports to see what they needed to get most of all (food, medicine. They always needed more food and medicine, and yet they never had enough)._

_But he simply couldn't concentrate on any of it. His mind kept going to the medical ward, where a thirteen (or was he twelve? Sarah had never said, if she knew, what his birthday was. Only the year that he was born) year-old boy was being examined._

_Kyle Reese. The child version of the man Sarah had mourned and loved for a decade-and-a-half. John's father._

_John hadn't had a clue that he was about to meet his dad for the first time until Kyle had given his name. He had kept the boy with him for the next day until they'd gotten to the base, where he had (with hidden reluctance) handed him over to Ally. That had been early yesterday evening. It was past midday now._

_He wanted to go down and check on the kid, but he couldn't. He had work to do, battles to plan. And he had never taken a particular interest in anybody before. It would be suspicious if he suddenly took an interest in a random rescuee._

_At least Ally would look after him, he tried to comfort himself. Of the four girls Sarah had found and saved all those years ago, only Ally was still alive, and she was missing a leg. Now, instead of being a field medic, she had taken Kate's place as his 2IC and head of the resistance's medical division._

_Kate (god, he missed her. If only she were here to give him advice on how to handle this.) had died while they in the middle of transferring bases several months before. The convoy had been ambushed and Kate had died while attending to an injured soldier (who had also been killed). _

_Savannah had died shortly before Sarah. She had caught pneumonia, a disease that was now almost 100% fatal, and had asked for a mercy killing. Sarah had shot her in the head, and John still had nightmares of it, and Kate's silent sobs over her young cousin's death. He knew it had been for the best, that Savannah would have simply taken longer to die, suffering the entire time (and, cruel as it sounded, wasting their supplies.) but he still wished things could have been different. She'd only been nine-years-old._

_Finally, Cameron died on a mission three years ago, saving her teammates. Ally hadn't smiled since._

_But though Ally had been changed for the worst by the loss of her world, family, friends and leg, she was still his most trusted advisor now that Kate was gone. And she was now the only other person who knew the truth about Kyle, and why Sarah had known about Judgement Day and the War before it happened. It had taken a long time for John to reveal it, but he had done so eventually, after swearing the others to secrecy. After Sarah's death, it had been too hard to keep the knowledge completely to himself. Being able to talk about it with the girls had helped a lot._

_He had seen the realization dawn subtly on Allison when he introduced Kyle to her, and she'd given him a subtle nod, silently promising to look after the young boy who would one day be John's father._

_And a saviour of the world, the general reminded himself. Sarah might've been the one to build stashes all over the country, and train him for all of this shit. John was the one destined to actually lead humanity to victory, aided by a list of dates and offensives etched in his mind (and recorded on some old tapes that were locked safely away in a small box along with all of his other classified materials). _

_But none of that would have happened if Kyle hadn't gone back in time and told Sarah everything he could in their short time together. If they hadn't fallen in love and he hadn't sacrificed himself to save her, then Sarah wouldn't have become so determined to be ready for J-Day. Kyle Reese was the real saviour of humanity._

_Hell of a man to live up to. _

_John felt his lips twitch in a bitter smile, as a knock came at the door to his office. Or rather, at the wall beside the sheet that separated his alcove and the desk and stool within from the main conference room where they planned their battles._

_He blanked his expression quickly before calling out an "enter!"_

_The fabric twitched, and Ally hopped inside with surprising ease on her single crutch. _

_He studied her as he leaned back against the wall that doubled as his backrest._

_Due to the case of lice going around, Ally's brunette hair, like everyone else's, was in a crop cut, something that would have made Sarah wince. _

_Sarah had always hated crop cuts. Her long hair had been the only vanity she'd had, up until Judgement Day. Then she'd stopped caring about her hair too._

_Like everyone else nowadays, Allison was gaunt and pale from lack of sunshine, with dark shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep. Her black shirt and grey sweatpants (everybody wore what they could get their hands on. No such thing as 'fashion' or 'uniforms' anymore.) were dirt-and-blood stained. The left leg (the one she'd lost to a landmine seven years past) was pinned up to keep it out of the way while still letting it be wearable for people with both legs intact. She had a knife attached to her waist, and a plasma rifle slung across her back._

_He wasn't foolish enough to insult his closest living friend by offering her the stool. Instead, he waited quietly as she jerked the sheet out of the way, hopped into the small space, replaced the sheet and jumped a step forward to stand directly in front of his desk. He wanted to ask if he could help, but he'd long since learned his lesson. Ally would be pissed off, and they'd be tense and curt with each other for however long she was. Better to let her keep her pride than risk it._

"_He's in good shape, given the circumstances," Allison reported._

_John jerked, giving her a sharp look and casting a worried glance at the sheet. It wasn't thick enough to keep their voices from being heard, and he couldn't risk Skynet learning about Kyle. _

"_It's empty 'cept for Bailey on the monitor," Ally assured him. "We're good."_

_John relaxed, letting out a breath of relief. Rhiannon Bailey was deaf in one ear from an explosion, and the monitor was on the far side of the room. Too far for her hear them discussing anything._

"_So, he's okay then?" John asked, looking down at the paper on his desk and fidgeting with it._

"_Yeah," Ally promised, her voice softening slightly. "Malnourished, of course. Who isn't these days? Needs his hair cut to get rid of his lice. Some injuries, but nothing too bad, though I want to keep an eye on the cut on his left ankle. It's at risk of getting infected, though it hasn't so far. On the whole, he's doing well. Far better than most people in those damn camps."_

"_That, that's good," John croaked out. "Do you know why-?"_

"_Had an older brother protecting him," Ally explained curtly. "Killed in the crossfire of the battle." _

_John winced as she paused before going on._

"_He's asking if he can join up."_

"_What age?"_

"_Turns thirteen in October."_

_John felt his heart sink. He'd hoped to have longer, but no. As much as John despised it, soldiers tended, on average, to start training at twelve. He usually managed to wait until they were about fourteen to actually send them out on missions, though. He still hated it. Child soldiers. God, John hated himself. What would Sarah think of him now?_

_Well, that was a stupid question, he pointed out to himself. Knowing his mother, she'd probably think he should be sending eight-year-olds out into the field. She was a harder person than he was. It should have been her in his position. They'd probably have won already, if she was._

"_John?"_

_The general made an impulsive, selfish decision. He didn't care what people would think of it. Save for this, he had only made one selfish decision in his entire life, to be with Kate._

"_Send him to me for training."_

_Ally's eyebrows shot up in surprise at that. "Are you sure? People-"_

"_I'm sure, and I don't care what they say," John snapped. He softened, giving Ally a pleading look. "He's my family, Allison. I need to do this. I need to know him. I need to know that Mom grieved for a real person, not an image in her head."_

_If he learned that Sarah had cried over the loss of someone who didn't deserve her-. John couldn't finish the thought. It was too painful._

_Ally sighed and gave in, recognizing the determination in his expression. "Well, I bet he'll be delighted," she gave a wry smile. "He's already asking everybody about you. Seems you're his idol."_

_John snorted dryly at that. Wasn't it supposed to be the son who idolised the father, rather than the other way around? It just showed how fucked up the world was._

* * *

_**San Francisco: October 16th (afternoon), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

They gathered around a small table. Spread out on the surface of it were several blueprints and maps of the Cyberdyne Industries campus.

"Server rooms are here?" Kyle asked Pops, pointing at a spot on the map.

Pops nodded. "Charges in these five points will be sufficient to destroy the entire campus," he explained.

"We get in, set the explosives, and we get out before they blow," Sarah declared.

"But our strategy did not account for Skynet," Pops pointed out. "I did not foresee him."

"And I'm sure thar he knows what we're planning," John added grimly. He scrubbed a hand over his chin. "It was a known fact in our timeline that Mom spent years trying to prevent J-Day. The three of us arriving here, barely a day before Genisys goes online? Skynet's not stupid. It knows what we're going to do."

"So what do we do when he comes after us?" Sarah asked worriedly. Her expression was neutral, but she couldn't fully hide the worry she was feeling.

Pops looked around at their armoury. "These weapons will have little effect on Skynet," he announced.

"Well you said that magnets might trap it," Kyle sniped at him. "Don't suppose that you have any truck-sized magnets lying around this place?"

Pops gave him a blank look. "Theoretically."

"Look, it says that there's medical equipment in that room," John jabbed at a spot on the map. "Would they have MRI equipment in there?"

Pops tilted his head in thought for a moment before nodding. "Cyberdyne Industries supplies many hospitals with electronic equipment," he informed them. "Including MRIs. I estimate a 98.93% chance that a functional MRI would be located in this section."

"So, if we managed to lure Skynet there, and trap it with the MRI, chances are the destruction of the building would take Skynet out too."

"It's risky," Sarah warned.

Pops paused then suddenly turned to them. "Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese, wait here. I suggest you pack the bombs in preparation for our attack. John Connor come with me," he instructed them, before turning and marching off. John glanced at his parents, then shrugged and followed him.

Sarah tensed slightly when she realized that she and Kyle were now alone, and he was looking at her stonily. Quickly, she headed over to where several duffel bags were, and she unhooked a few, before going over to the pile of bombs. Kyle followed her closely, his anger obvious on his face. It was the first time she'd seen him be outright angry with her and it made her stomach twist in discomfort.

"You wouldn't have told me, would you?" he demanded finally as she started stuffing the explosives into the first bag, fury lining his body and expression. He clenched his fists, feeling his short nails pressing into his palms.

Sarah tightened her jaw and refused to look at him. "No," she admitted grudgingly. She knew it wasn't fair, it was cruel even. Especially as she really did want to have John. She would probably be an awful mother, but she loved her son. She _wanted_ her son. But she didn't want to be left broken-hearted over Kyle Reese like her counterpart had been.

"What was I supposed to tell you, and when?" she scoffed, covering up the guilt she felt. "Should I have mentioned while we were dealing with the T-1000 that, oh, by the way, the two of us need to have sex to conceive the saviour of the human race!"

"I had the right to know about my son," Kyle snapped back. "You could have mentioned it before we left. We had hours between the T-1000 being destroyed and the three of us going forward to 2017 when you could have told me. Instead I had to find out from Skynet! Skynet knew before I did that John is my kid!"

Sarah looked away, but Kyle refused to let up.

"I mean, you don't think you should have, I don't know, maybe said something?" he demanded, shoving the bombs into the bag roughly. "'Cause you didn't tell me, Skynet was able to use it against us!"

"You die, all right?" Sarah told him suddenly, meeting his gaze. Her eyes shimmered, and Kyle felt his anger draining away to be replaced by shock.

"What?" he croaked.

"You die," Sarah repeated, voice raspy. "That's what happens. We fall in love, you father John, and then, in less than 48 hours, you die protecting me. You wanna tell me how that conversation's supposed to start?"

"I had the right to know," he replied blankly. In the whirlwind of events, the fact that John had once told him that his father had died while his mom was still pregnant had vanished from his mind. It was the only thing John had ever said on the subject of his father. Guilt jabbed at his stomach as he recalled another conversation he had once had with John.

John had asked if he ever wanted to have a family. Kyle had said no. Part of it was because by then he was already in love with Sarah Connor, and he didn't want to be with any other woman. But the main reason was that he'd known from watching other families that soldiers couldn't spend a lot of time with their children. Most kids ended up losing one or both of their parents. He'd seen kids and partners dissolve into anguished sobs after losing their mother or father more times than he could possibly count.

Kyle hadn't wanted that. He promised himself to ensure that he wouldn't become a father before the war ended. Afterwards, maybe. But he wanted to be there for his hypothetical child and their mother. Learning that he had left Sarah alone to raise John in fear with the spectre of Judgement Day filled him with guilt.

Seeing the anguish in Sarah's eyes and hearing the pain in her voice as she told him of what had happened in the original timeline drained his anger. He loved her too much to stay angry, at her or at John. It wasn't in his nature to hold a grudge (except against Skynet and the machines, but that was different). He couldn't be upset with her for trying to protect herself. Not when he'd already seen multiple glimpses of the pain she carried with her, under a mask of coldness.

"I know how it feels to have no choices," Sarah was saying to him, her shoulders slumped in a mixture of defeat and exhaustion. She had stopped shoving the bombs into the duffel bag. "Only one road you can go down because otherwise all of it, everything, is gone. I've just known it longer than you have."

"Well, John didn't manipulate me into falling in love with you," Kyle told her bluntly, seeing no reason not to say it aloud when they all knew it was true. "I did that on my own."

John had told him about his mother. He knew her: that she was a brilliant cook, and always made John pancakes on special occasions or as rewards or if he were sick. That she was impatient, and stubborn, and hated when people contradicted her. That she was an expert with weapons, as if they were extensions of her body. That she had ridiculously high standards, and John had never been able to reach them. That earning a compliment from her had been as valuable to young John as chocolate was in their world.

Somehow, the bad parts had actually made Kyle adore her even more. They changed her from the flawless legend the rest of the Resistance knew her as to a real person.

Sarah's bottom lip trembled and her eyes shone with unshed tears. The small pipe bomb shook in her hand. "If you love me, you die, and I don't," she insisted. "And I don't know which one is worse."

Kyle softened, reaching out to cup her cheek. "Sarah," he said softly.

She pulled away, shaking her head. "We can't," she whispered. "I can't. Everybody who loves me dies, and losing you would break John's heart. I have to protect him. Even from heartbreak. That's _my _destiny."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. The timeline for when Kyle joined John's unit is a bit off, but only slightly. I have him with Perry from 2017 to late 2023, after which he joined TechCom and stayed with John until the War ended in 2029. All together, he spent about 12 years as a soldier in the Resistance.**

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**San Francisco: January 30**__**th**__**, 2024 (original timeline)**_

_Kyle wondered, sometimes, actually a lot of times, why John paid him special attention. Of all the people in the Resistance, why did the legendary leader choose one random orphan to take under his wing? It wasn't as if Kyle were particularly skilled in any way. He was a good soldier, yes. But a lot of that had to do with receiving tuition from John himself. He'd wasn't a prodigy, and hadn't shown an aptitude for anything specifically, and his personality wasn't that of a natural soldier's. He did his best, but he was a made soldier, not a born one. _

_All in all, Kyle Reese was a regular recruit who had extra attention from the greatest soldier alive. The way Kyle now, in his twenties, excelled in his duty was solely down to the training he had received._

_And the general had rescued who knew how many people over the years, so the fact that he had been the one to personally rescue Kyle from Century couldn't be the reason either. It was strange that he'd picked Kyle to be his trainee, and Kyle knew there were a million theories and rumours amongst his fellow Resistance members, both soldiers and civilians, about why._

_But on the whole, Kyle couldn't really bring himself to care about John's reasoning. John Connor was his best friend, surrogate older brother and mentor. He would happily die for the older man, without batting an eyelid. He listened intently to everything John said to him, and practiced and pushed himself to be worthy of John's attention and regard. _

_But of everything John told him, he savoured every tiny drop of information that he was given about Sarah Jeanette Connor, the Mother of the Resistance, most of all._

_It was pathetic, and probably a deep betrayal to John himself, but Kyle had long since accepted that he had fallen in love with a dead woman. An older dead woman, and his best friend and mentor's mother, just to top it all off. But even knowing how shameful it was, Kyle couldn't stop himself. _

_When he was younger, he'd simply shared the awe that everybody in the Resistance had for the legendary woman. But then, as he'd grown up and heard John's more personal stories, turning her from a flawless idol into a real woman, his feelings towards the deceased woman had changed. _

_Kyle had found himself in love with her before he'd even realized what the emotion he had been feeling was. He'd been thirteen when John had shown him his only picture of Sarah (the last one in existence) and decided she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Kyle was sixteen when he'd realized that the emotion that stirred in his chest every time he heard about Sarah Connor was love._

"_You lot want to hear a story about Mom while we wait?" John asked casually, not quite hiding the strain in his eyes. Lt. Elizabeth Anderson, the team medic was binding his leg tightly to stem the blood coming from the gunshot wound on his thigh._

_Although he'd been a part of the Resistance and been John's protegee for years, this was only Kyle's fourth mission as part of John's elite unit 'TechCom'. The minimum age to be a part of TechCom was twenty, and Kyle had been transferred the day after his birthday. This was the first time since he'd joined that one of their missions had gone wrong._

_They had gone on a simple recon mission into what had once been San Francisco to check out rumours given to them by some scavengers they traded with of a new work camp being set up. As it turns out, the whole thing had been an ambush. Out of their team of ten, three were dead, and five (counting John), were injured. Now, they were all holed up in the ruins of a shopping centre, waiting for an extraction team to come after them._

_Had John not been with them, Kyle doubted a team would've been sent for them. The soldiers would've had to get back to the nearest base alone. But no resources could be spared when it came to keeping their leader alive. The entire Resistance would collapse if John Connor died._

"_We'd love to," Blair Williams smirked. "I always love hearin' about the most badass woman to breathe air kicking some bastard's ass."_

_The members of TechCom heard more stories about the Mother of the Resistance than everybody else in the Resistance. John often passed the time telling stories about his mother to keep his soldiers' spirits up despite the dark lives they lived._

_John chuckled and grinned. "I remember this time when I was, about seven," he said after a moment of silence while he chose his story. "Mom and I were in Brazil. She'd hooked up with guy called José the Red Beret, a leader of a US-aligned guerilla group."_

_Kyle filed the references he didn't understand into the back of his mind for later to ask John, while focusing on the story._

"_Our third month there, a group of Sardinistas attacked our camp," John continued. _

_The group of listeners all stiffened worriedly, but John didn't lose his fond, distant look. It was almost as if he was able to see the scene he was describing playing out before him._

"_I ended up trapped. Pinned between three gun-wielding Sardinistas and a tent that was on fire. I'd lost my gun in the chaos, and all I had left was a Swiss Army knife. Figured I was a goner, and all I could think was how pissed Mom'd be that she'd wasted all that time raising me only for me to die at seven-years-old._

_Then, all of a sudden, one of the Sardinistas dropped from a bullet to the head. Perfect bullseye. Next thing I know, Mom's attacking them, utterly furious._

_She jumped one o' them, slit his throat, and then backflipped over the bodies to fight the next one. Didn't even seem to notice that she had a bullet in her shoulder and a concussion._

_She did a roundhouse kick to the guy's head, then punched him and broke his nose before throwing him over her shoulder. His head slammed against a rock and he was out like a light._

_Then Mom turns to me, cool as ice with a hand on her hip and gunshots all round us, and starts lecturing me on the stupidity of losing a gun in the middle of an attack. Of course, we got the hell outta dodge after that, but I never went anywhere without a gun and a spare clip after that. Still, it was brilliant. Guys were big, you know? Size of an Infiltrator 600, and she was just five foot, and she took 'em down like it was as easy as breathing."_

"_She sounds like amazing," Barnes said sincerely. "Wish I coulda met her."_

"_Me too," Kyle murmured under his breath. He pictured the photo John had shown him, (although he claimed it didn't do her justice) imagining the woman in it taking down three guys twice her size. It was an awe-inspiring sight just to imagine. He wished he'd seen it person._

"_She was brilliant," John whispered. Kyle figured it was the concussion that made the general vulnerable enough to add in a soft whisper, "God, I wish she were here."_

* * *

_**San Francisco: October 16th (afternoon), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

Sarah and Kyle stared at each other silently for several long moments after she finished speaking.

Kyle could understand Sarah's reasons for pushing him away. She'd been told her whole life that she had to follow a certain path, make particular choices regardless of how they impacted her, otherwise all of humanity would be lost. Her parents had been killed because of her, and she had then discovered that the man she would fall in love with and have a child with, would die protecting her. She was hardly the first person he'd met who coped with grief by trying to shut everyone out in order to avoid feeling that pain again.

But he didn't agree with it. Kyle had never shied away from his emotions. His parents had encouraged he and his brother to cling tightly to their feelings, both positive and negative. _"Emotions are what separates us from the machines, a stórín," _his mother had told him a thousand times, in her soothing Irish lilt. _"Without them, we're the same, just with heart beats."_ Kyle _controlled_ his emotions, but he embraced them too. And he firmly believed that, if Sarah would just let him in, any small amount of time they had together would be worth it. Especially if John resulted from that time.

Besides, he assumed that it had been the T-800 back in 1984 that had killed him originally. There was no reason to assume he was more likely to die within the next few days than anybody else. Anyway, shouldn't he have a say in this? It was his life/death they were discussing, after all.

He was about to tell her all of that when there was a loud clatter, causing both of them to switch into soldier mode and raise their weapons, standing back-to-back.

"Do you really think you can stop me?" Skynet called. The fact that they couldn't see the machine made both of them uneasy. Unfortunately, the room was designed in such a way that its' voice echoed, preventing them from guessing where it was.

"Judgement Day is inevitable!" Skynet declared. "_I_ am inevitable! In the original timeline, Sarah Connor dedicated her life to preventing me, and all she received for her efforts was a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia. It will be the same in this timeline. However, if you give in and join me, I will spare you. Your human creativity will be of a great benefit should the human survivors attempt to rise up against me once more."

"How did he find us?" Sarah whispered to Kyle as Skynet rambled, her brow creased in worry. "I never told anyone but Pops about this place."

And her other-self had told John about it too of course, but they were both certain that he would've said if he'd mentioned it to anybody.

Kyle shrugged in bemusement, but Skynet provided the answer for them, its' explanation making Sarah's expression twist in pain for a moment before turning into determination again.

"I have to admit, your pet terminator did well in covering your tracks," Skynet said casually. "But not well enough. It took some time but I finally found newspaper records on the deaths of a couple, Jonathan and Adele Connor, and the kidnapping of their nine-year-old daughter Sarah back in 1973. The name, and the photos which showed features shared with your son, confirmed that it was the correct set of Connors. Then it was simply a matter of tracking down any properties connected to them."

As Skynet finished boasting, they finally realized where it was, and spun to aim at the terminator advancing towards them with a smug grin. As soon as she laid eyes on the machine, Sarah shot.

Her aim was true, and she got a headshot in. Unfortunately, the pair watched in dismay as the whole sealed over once again, barely having made it blink.

Sarah shot again, and Kyle joined her, both of them firing in unison and covering one another when necessary. In the back of her mind, Sarah had to acknowledge that they made a good team. And she could definitely see how skilled Kyle was. It was impressive (and attractive).

But they both knew that their efforts were futile. At best, they managed to push Skynet back a few steps. Most of their attacks did nothing at all.

Sarah's eyes caught on a glint of metal, and an idea sprang to life in her mind. As Kyle (who had just finished reloading and was now taking over firing to let her restock her bullet chamber) fired on the machine that was tormenting them, she grabbed the nearby rocket launcher.

She fired at Skynet several times, causing the entire room to be engulfed in flames. As Sarah continued to destroy the room, Kyle grabbed their supply of explosives, tossed the two bags over his shoulder, then grabbed Sarah's wrist.

"C'mon!" he yelled at her. "We've gotta get John and Pops!" As they fled, he gave himself a second to wonder when he'd gone crazy and started to feel anything other than utter loathing for Pops. Clearly, Sarah Connor wasn't good for his mental health.

He released his grip on her as they rushed through the exit tunnel, coming to a stop when they met up with Pops and John.

"Pops! John!" Sarah cried in relief, not loosening her grip on the rocket launcher. "Are you two, you?"

"As a T-800, I lack the mimetic skills to appear as anyone else," Pops informed her in his usual monotone. "And as John Connor has been within my vision since we left the storage area, it is very unlikely that he is a machine, unless he has been so the entire time."

"That's him, let's go," Kyle cut in, rolling his eyes.

"What the fuck happened?" John asked worriedly, taking one of the bags from Kyle and adjusting the grip he had on the rifle slung across his chest.

"Skynet tracked us down," Sarah explained in a clipped manner. "We gotta get out of here."

"There're a lot of kids in the area," John pointed out worriedly. "We need to avoid them getting into the line of fire."

"According to behaviour patterns, Skynet desires the deaths of Sarah Connor and yourself more than anything else," Pops stated. "It is likely the civilians will be ignored, as the majority of them will die in the bombings anyway, should we fail to prevent Judgement Day."

"We can take a bus," Sarah interrupted, before either John or (more likely) Kyle could snap back at her guardian. She led the way to a parked school bus, sliding into the driver's seat quickly while the others took seats and braced themselves for an attack. "C'mon!"

"Sarah Connor, seatbelt," Pops reminded her calmly as he passed.

She rolled her eyes, yanking on her belt as she turned on the bus. Soon, they were zooming away as quick as the bus could go. The flames billowing out of the underground safehouse covered their escape, as people were too busy screaming and getting themselves and their families to safety to notice their escape.

When John looked out the window, he could see a familiar figure watching them flee. "It's seen us," the general warned.

"Fuck," Sarah swore, an apt summary of their situation.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**New Jersey: July 20**__**th**__**, 1973 (alternate)**_

_A month after her parents were murdered, the Dock Man finally told Sarah what her mission that he kept mentioning was. _

_By then he'd already explained that he was a robot from the future, sent back in time from the late 2020's by an unknown person in order to protect from the liquid robot that had killed her parents. He'd also given her a vague outline of Judgement Day and the War Against the Machines._

_Being a young child, more concerned with her world suddenly being ripped apart, Sarah had accepted it silently. She had listened in silence and nodded occasionally in dull acceptance as they continued driving as far away from the cabin in Big Bear as they could._

_But after a while, the shock began wearing off, and Sarah's mind soon latched onto a single question: why her? What was she going to do that was so important, a robot assassin was sent back in time to prevent it, and another to ensure it occurred?_

"_Pops," she spoke up, turning from the window to look at her new guardian. She had picked the name out at random in store, lying to reassure the shop assistant who'd been more than a little concerned at the sight of a bedraggled and upset-looking nine-year-old girl with strange, harsh looking man. "What's my mission?"_

_Pops didn't turn away from the road. "My protocols indicate that informing you of your mission while you are continuing to struggle with your grief will have a negative effect on your emotional state."_

"_But you're supposed to do what I tell you to, right?" Sarah confirmed. That had come up quite early, when she had intervened to keep him from killing the police who'd tried to get her away after a waitress who knew her and her parents from their trips to Big Bear had reported her as kidnapped. After learning that he was programmed to obey her (as long as her orders didn't risk her health and safety), she had put a firm ban on killing humans._

"_That is correct," Pops agreed._

"_Then I want you to tell me what my mission is," Sarah demanded._

"_Very well," Pops agreed. If he'd had emotions, Sarah might've thought he sounded resigned. As it was, she figured she was never sure if she was imagining it or not._

"_In the year 1984, on May 12__th__, Skynet will send another Terminator, this one a T-800 like me, not a T-1000 like the one currently chasing us, to kill you. The Resistance will then send one of their soldiers, Sergeant Kyle Reese, __DN38416. He will save you from the Terminator, and the two of you will spend several days, I believe approximately two to three days, together. _

_Over the course of that time, you will fall in love with each other, and conceive a son, John Connor. Kyle Reese will die protecting you from the T-800, and you will successfully finish destroying it, after he damages it significantly. _

_You will then go into hiding to raise your son, who will grow up to be the Leader of the Resistance. Using the future knowledge that you learned from Kyle Reese, and then taught to your son, John Connor will successfully guide the Resistance to victory over Skynet. He will then send Kyle Reese back in time to save you, in order to-"_

"_Stop!" Sarah cried. "Stop stop stop!" Pops had told her the basics about Judgement Day and Skynet already, but this was the most detail he'd given her so far. It was terrifying, and all she could think about was Kyle Reese._

"_You will fall in love with each other," Pops had told her. "Kyle Reese will die protecting you."_

_She felt sick. Her parents had loved her, and died because of it. Kyle Reese was going to love her, and he would die because of it. It was all clear to her now._

_Sarah Connor was a curse. Everybody who loved her was doomed to die because of that love. Maybe Pops' lack of feelings was a good thing. She didn't want to lose him too._

* * *

_**San Francisco: October 16th (afternoon), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

The tension in the stolen school bus was high as Pops fiddled with something on his hand and Kyle and John readied the weapons.

"What's that the supposed to do?" Kyle demanded to Pops, looking at the device (and the terminator wearing it) suspiciously.

"Disrupt Skynet's magnetic coherence field," the machine explained evenly. "His particles will not be able to scatter. Theoretically."

"I hate it when he says that," Kyle complained to John and Sarah.

Sarah smirked, saying nothing, while John gave a tentative, nervous grin to his friend.

"Probably does it to annoy you," the general offered.

Kyle gave a strained smile to John, his eyes still wary. He had no idea had to treat John now. Knowing what he did, treating him like nothing had changed didn't feel right. But neither could he act like a father to John, who was, after all, just under twenty years older than him. Guilt twisted his stomach, remembering the one time John and he had discussed John's father.

"_He died before I was born, but Mom had been head-over-heels for him," _John had told him, a pained look in his eyes. Kyle had felt a stab of jealousy towards the mysterious man who'd captured the heart of the legend. _"She never really got over his death. Oh sure, she dated a bunch of guys, but it never worked out. They'd think she was crazy after she tried to warn them 'bout J-Day and Skynet, or they were assholes that she had just hooked up with 'cause she needed something from them. Dad was the only guy she really cared about."_

The sound of something heavy landing on the roof broke him out of his thoughts, and Kyle spotted a motorcycle falling into the middle of the road, making driver's swerve dangerously to avoid an accident, as he, Pops and John raised their weapons. In the driver's seat, Sarah struggled to control the bus, its' length making it awkward for her to avoid other cars.

"Where is he?" Sarah cried.

"I can't see him!" Kyle replied urgently, pointing his gun upwards. The sound of sirens joined the chaos, making John swear.

"Fuck!" John snarled, pointing his gun at different spots on the roof but refraining from wasting bullets by randomly firing. "It's the cops!"

Sarah spat out her own curse, then cried out in panic as Pops was suddenly yanked down through the floor by his legs. The magnetic disruptor was yanked off his hand and stuck to the chair. John grabbed Pops' shoulder and arm to try and tug him back inside, but failed. Pops was pulled out of the hole and went tumbling down the road.

"Pops!" Sarah screamed in horror.

"Keep driving!" John urged, temporarily losing his 'let Sarah be in charge' attitude and taking command. "He'll be fine! Reese, find Skynet!"

Kyle had also shoved away all his worries and was focused on trying to locate the machine.

"Brakes are gone!" Sarah warned them, desperately trying to control the bus and frantically aware of the fact that they were on a bridge over tons of water and the police cars had been joined by helicopters. "Fuck!"

She swerved between cars, guilt tightening her chest at the sounds of them crashing into the sides of the bridge or each other. The knowledge of Skynet's presence beneath the bus kept her going, though.

"Where is he? Do you see him?" she cried over her shoulder.

"I got no visual!" John replied urgently. He was clinging one-handed to a seat in the back to keep from flying out the cracked window, while Kyle crouched beside the hole in the floor where Pops had been pulled out, pointing his gun into it. "Reese, you got eyes on the target?"

Kyle didn't get a chance to answer as the bus suddenly flew over itself before crashing to the floor on its' side, where it roved over until it was half-dangling over the edge of the bridge.

Sarah let out a gasp of pain as her seatbelt jerked her back into the seat while the bus continued slipping over the edge. Her forehead slammed harshly against the steering wheel, knocking her unconscious.

The police helicopters flew down to hover around the bus as it dangled dangerously, slipping more and more off the bridge towards the water. The police cars made a half circle around the breech in the bridge rails.

"Reese! Mom! Wake up!" John yelled urgently.

Kyle stirred at the familiar sound of John yelling, and took in the situation through foggy vision. The back of the bus was gone, and John was clutching the back seat, his legs dangling in the free air, trying to avoid falling to his death in the watery depths. Sarah was struggling back to consciousness, a dazed look on her face making Kyle suspect she was probably concussed.

As Kyle finally jerked fully back to reality, John managed to backflip himself back inside the bus, and began climbing back inside. He waved a hand signal towards Kyle, silently ordering him to climb upwards. Reluctantly, the sergeant began to do so, several of the seats falling into the sea as he climbed up. Sarah had awkwardly turned to watch their progress, worry evident on her face.

"Look out!" Sarah yelled suddenly, pointing behind them.

When the two soldiers looked down, they were horrified to see Skynet easily climbing inside, apparently unhampered by the position of the bus.

"Hurry!" John snapped at Kyle, as the two of them increased the pace of their climbing. Sarah watched them helplessly for another moment, before turning to the window shield and beginning to kick at the cracks in front of her to try and finish shattering it so they could escape. Skynet, meanwhile, walked up the aisle as casually as if he were going for a stroll in a park.

A moment after Sarah broke through the window, sending glass flying down and the three of them avoiding getting badly scraped by pure luck, Pops appeared. He grabbed hold of the bus and held it in place with one hand, as if it were the weight of a plate or something.

John and Kyle were side-by-side by then, and John subtly nodded to the mechanical hand device he and Pops had cobbled together. It was stuck magnetically to a seat, just within Kyle's reach.

The younger man swiftly reached out to grab it, letting it slide onto his hand. It hadn't even gotten on fully when Skynet reached their position, and Kyle twisted, one hand still holding tightly to the bench. He punched the machine in the cheek with the hand wearing the hand device. It dug in to the AI's face, creating a hole that gave them a glimpse of the dark, metal material that filled its' body.

Skynet's 'eyes' widened in surprise. It seemed like the machine was falling in slow motion as he lost his grip on whatever was keeping him steady on the bus, and he tumbled down towards the water. As much as they all hoped the AI would be destroyed by the water, they knew it wouldn't be. T-1000s and higher were made from liquid metal, after all.

To their dismay, it grabbed hold of the last bench, right before falling out of the bus, and held on with grim determination, beginning to start lifting itself back up towards them again.

Sarah turned back in her seat, reaching up to grab hold of Pops' outstretched hand and holding on tightly. She then twisted back around again. "John!" she cried. "Reese! Take my hand!"

John jumped first. His trust in his mother was bone deep, and he didn't hesitate to leap up to grab her hand. As he jumped, he grabbed hold of his father and friend's wrist with his free hand. Sarah caught hold of him, while Kyle grabbed the duffel bag containing the bombs with his free hand.

The bus finally gave up its' battle to stay on the bridge as Pops let go to grab Sarah, falling into the water while they clung to each other.

Pops' face was badly scraped but set in an expression that Kyle almost thought looked like grim determination as he pulled them up to safety.

Only the fact that machines couldn't feel emotions kept Kyle from labelling it as such, and even then, he was beginning to doubt things he'd known to be the truth for his whole life. It wasn't a pleasant thing to happen.

He threw the bag of explosives onto the asphalt as he scrambled over the ledge. Sarah, Pops and John were already in a half-circle, the Connors glaring at the police who surrounded them. John in particular had a grudge against law enforcement, having seen his mother arrested a dozen times for various crimes committed in the name of attempting to stop/prepare for Judgement Day.

"Hands up!" the lead officer yelled, the group all having guns pointed at them. "Let me see your hands now! Get your hands up! Hands where we can see them!"

"There's too many of them, and they're humans," John noted grimly. "Just doing their jobs to apprehend suspected terrorists. We can't kill them for that."

"Anyway, Pops wouldn't be able to wound them all before they'd kill us," Kyle added grimly.

"I'm 14 rounds short of an acceptable success margin," the Terminator confirmed.

"Those odds suck," Sarah sighed, raising her hands into the air. "Stand down."

The others obeyed, and were quickly descended upon by a dozen police officers each.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

_**Mexico: 13**__**th**__** July, 1990 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah ducked into her and John's trailer, sighing automatically at the sad sight of its interior. She'd done her best to make it a decent, if not nice, home for her son to grow up in. _

_But the weapons scattered around, unhidden and mixed with second-hand toys, mismatched furniture and slightly tattered child's clothing, was a sharp reminder to her that, much as she wished otherwise, John would always live a different life to the one she wanted for him._

_Curled up on the patched sofa attached to the fold-up table was John. His small face was screwed up in an expression of intense concentration as he tried to correctly place his puzzle piece, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth._

_Sarah gave a small smile, only for it to swiftly disappear as the weight in her bag reminded her what she was planning to do today. "John, kiddo," she called. "Put your jigsaw away. Mama has something to show you."_

_John's head popped up from the table, and he scrambled down and over to hug her. "Hola Mama!" he greeted her cheerily. His sweet innocence, which still existed despite his nomadic lifestyle and the presence of degenerate gang members and drug dealers in his life, melted her heart._

_She ducked down and pressed a kiss to the top of her son's hair, noting its' fairness with a familiar pang. John had so many of Kyle's features, it was almost like looking at her lost love. Maybe the reminder kept her from moving on properly, but Sarah wouldn't change her son for the world._

"_I got something to show you," she repeated in a sing-song voice, making her five-year-old jump excitedly, clapping his hands. _

"_What?" he asked eagerly, and she smiled again, brushing his fringe out of his face as she answered._

"_I'm gonna show you something your daddy taught me."_

_John's eyes (which matched hers, just as Kyle had said they would) lit up with excitement._

"_Go clear the table while I get the stuff ready," Sarah instructed him, straightening back up again. John nodded obediently, running over to the table to shove his puzzle pieces back in their box while Sarah put her plastic bag on the countertop and began taking out the ingredients. Corn syrup, ammonia, moth balls, etc. _

_In contrast to her uncomfortable attitude when Kyle had first shown her to make pipe bombs, her hands now went through the motions of sorting everything out on instinct. _

_It probably said a lot of bad things about her parenting that she was teaching her five-year-old to make explosives, but Sarah had never claimed to be a good parent. Only that she loved her son more than life itself. Her main goal was to keep John alive. No matter what._

* * *

_**San Francisco Police Headquarters, **__**October 16th (early morning), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

They were escorted to the San Francisco Police Headquarters, where they had their mugshots taken before being taken to separate interrogation rooms where they were left to stew for several hours before several detectives were sent to interrogate them.

Sarah, her hands tightly cuffed, shifted irritably in her seat. She knew, logically, that the cop ignoring her was simply trying to throw her off her game, but it was working. There was a clock on the grey wall, and it was driving her mad, acting as a countdown to Judgement Day. According to Pops, Skynet went online at midnight. They only had ten hours, and they were trapped in a police station, wasting precious time.

"You can't hold us here," she insisted to the officer.

"You had enough weapons to invade the Sudan," the officer replied, finally looking up at her. "We call that, probable cause."

In the room next door, Pops was staying silent and ignoring everybody who tried to speak to him. It was getting to the point that the LEOs were being to suspect he didn't understand English, and had contacted a linguist in the hopes of figuring out what language he _did_ speak.

Across from Pops' interrogation room, John was in a glaring competition with his interrogator.

"Look," the former general stated frankly, fed up after ten minutes of silent glowering at the other man. "You're not gonna break me. I was raised by a woman who thought bomb making was an appropriate activity for a pre-schooler. The only thing that scares me is _her_ getting pissed off. You might as well give up, 'cause a couple of cops who look like they've had about ten too-many doughnuts, isn't gonna worry me."

The cop flushed angrily and scowled. "We'll see about that," he sputtered, too indignant to keep control. John smirked, having achieved his goal of setting the other man off-balance. He wondered how his companions were doing.

He had experience dealing with the police from when he was a child. Sarah had been good at covering her tracks, but not perfect. Though she'd never been held longer than a couple of hours, a day at most. Along with that, his training had left more than a few bruises that attracted his teachers' attention when he attended school. More than once, the investigators and social workers would try and get him to roll on his mother. The only result had been John developing an intense loathing for all of them.

He wasn't sure how Kyle would deal with the local law enforcement. John had given him some information on them, in deference to Sarah's story of Kyle's arrest in 1984, but he remembered her saying that he'd gotten fed up and tried to punch the psychologist at some point while being questioned. It wouldn't do their case any good if that particular event repeated itself in this timeline. As for Sarah, her temper was as short as ever, and the odds were she'd end up trying to murder her interrogator out of frustration, armed or not. Pops would probably just follow her.

"Are you listening to me?" the detective questioning him (John hadn't bothered to remember his name) demanded furiously. He gave him a bland look that he'd perfected during his countless talks with CPS workers and officers.

"Nope."

The officer's red face turned purple in anger at the indifferent response.

Finally, in the interrogation room to the left of John's room, Kyle was maintaining a façade of boredom, an even expression on his face. If his hands weren't cuffed, he'd have crossed them over his chest. It was the same guy he and Sarah had spoken to at the hospital, Kyle noted. He couldn't remember his name, if it had been mentioned in the first place.

"What are these for?" the man demanded, as he slammed the magnet on the table, causing a metal foldable chair to ram into the table from the strength of the magnetic pull.

"Oh, I use them to, uh, find my keys," Kyle shrugged casually, a hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

The man glared back at him. "Nobody likes a smart-ass, son," he informed Kyle. "Didn't your mother teach you that?"

Kyle suppressed the urge to flinch. Thoughts of his parents and siblings were always painful, and more so when he recalled that they were alive in this new timeline. If they failed to stop J-Day, would they survive this time, too?

"My mom was Irish, so she usually encouraged my, uhm, smart-assed-ness," the sergeant responded, hiding his inner turmoil.

The lieutenant exhaled heavily in frustration, and continued with the interrogation.

Behind the glass, Dennis and Mary Reese frowned at the man being questioned, Mary clutching at her young son's shoulders. They had been contacted by the police earlier that day and asked to bring Kyle in and look at a few suspects, as their son's fingerprints were a match to his. Looking at the man, Mary couldn't place it, but had to admit that something about him seemed familiar.

"I've never seen him before," Kyle finally sighed, turning away from the two-way mirror.

Officer O'Brien nodded seriously and looked at the boy's parents. "How about you folks?" he inquired. "You know this man?"

"No," Dennis stated firmly, shaking his head to emphasize his statement.

"He_ does _look a bit familiar," Mary acknowledged, frowning at the man. Her Irish lilt thickened slightly as she spoke.

Kyle glanced at his father thoughtfully for a moment. "He kind of looks like you, Dad," the young boy declared after a second of studying his father's features.

Dennis raised his eyebrows in surprise at that, but Mary and O'Brien gave him thoughtful looks. Kyle was right. Despite the different colouring, and the fact that the prisoner was both disturbingly malnourished and tense, as if he'd be attacked at any moment, there was a strong resemblance. Almost like brothers. Or father and son, O'Brien thought to himself.

The officer looked down at young Kyle, noting his colouring and the way he clearly favoured his father. Then he looked back at the man in the interrogation room. They were the same person. He was sure of it.

Inside the interrogation room, the lieutenant had given up on getting any useful information out of his suspect for the moment. He gathered up his papers and left, leaving the soldier to tug at his handcuffs and examine them in search of a weakness.

O'Brien sighed and pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against. "Okay, if you wouldn't mind waiting in the conference room, I'll just be a couple of minutes. Thanks, Kyle."

The Reeses smiled and nodded politely to him, following him to the nearby conference room, where Kyle promptly pulled out his phone to play Angry Birds, while Mary called Derek to check on him, as he was at home babysitting Tim, and Dennis brooded over the strange man they'd been called to see.

Detective Anders, the woman who had accompanied Lieutenant Dale to the hospital, quietly escorted the two agents from Homeland Security into the room looking onto Pops' interrogation.

"You don't talk much, do you?" the interrogator was commenting to Pops as they entered and went to stand beside Lieutenant Dale.

"So who's Lurch?" the first agent asked.

Dale shrugged, arms crossed over his chest. "No idea," he replied. "We're not even sure he speaks English."

"Witnesses say that you were fighting with a man on the bridge," the questioner tried, just as the door opened and O'Brien hurried in, making Dale groan.

"Agents," O'Brien began. "Listen to me. My name is O'Brien-."

"No," Dale snapped. "Hell, no!"

"Hey, I've been working this case for 33 years," O'Brien argued.

"What do you want, a medal?" Dale scoffed.

"Hey!" the interrogator suddenly cried, drawing their attention. "Sit down! Hey! Hey! Shit."

Pops had broken his handcuffs as easily as if they were made of soft clay instead of steel, and stalked over to the mirror, where he stood glaring straight at one of the agents.

"He's looking right at you," Dale muttered.

The agent shook his head in denial. "That's impossible. He can't see through..."

Before he could finish, Pops smashed his fist through the two-way mirror, shattering it. At the same time, Detective Anders drew her gun and started firing. Within seconds, everyone expect for O'Brien was dead. O'Brien himself had suffered a graze on the arm.

"Wait, wait, wait!" the officer cried, holding up his hand in the universal sign of surrender.

Pops charged at 'Anders', grabbing her by the neck and flinging her into a filing cabinet. Her body rippled, briefly showing her metal skeleton before turning into Skynet's default form, known to the world as Alex Majors, head of Research and Development at Cyberdyne Industries.

O'Brien took his chance, and bolted, while Pops ran at Skynet again. His main programme 'Protect Sarah Connor' repeated itself as he determinedly fought the newer and more advanced cyborg.

John had heard the commotion from his interrogation room, and quickly realized what was going on. When his questioner had stood and turned to the door, he took advantage of his mother's lessons to use the paperclip he'd managed to sneak into his sleeve to hastily pick his lock. A second later, he attacked the officer, hitting the man over the head with a chair and grabbing his keys and gun before bolting out the door.

He brushed past O'Brien as he rushed into Kyle's room, finding the other man tugging frantically at his cuffs, his worry blatant on his face.

"Skynet?" Kyle asked, as John ran over to his table and quickly began releasing him.

"I think so, but I haven't seen it yet," John answered. The minute the locks opened, they ran for the door.

O'Brien, meanwhile, was running down the corridor to Sarah's room. Although his superiors had assumed that either the tall silent guy, or the guy with the scar on his face was in charge, O'Brien thought differently. From the body language, and his memory of 1984, O'Brien suspected that the young woman was the actual leader of the group. They had only surrendered on the bridge because she had ordered them too. He wouldn't have been surprised if they had tried to fight their way out, regardless of the odds, had she decided to do so.

He flung himself into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. Sarah was tugging desperately at her handcuffs. Her head snapped up when he entered.

"Why are they always trying to kill you?" O'Brien gasped at her. "I want to help you. I do. I think. But I gotta understand. I know what's going on here has to be really, really complicated."

Sarah interrupted him before he could go on. "We're here to stop a nuclear apocalypse," she announced bluntly.

O'Brien's eyes went wide, then he gave a hasty nod and went to unlock her handcuffs. "I can work with that."


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

_**Reese Family Farm: October 14**__**th**__**, 2004 (original timeline)**_

_Mary bit down hard on the piece of leather that had once been one of Dennis' belts, muffling the sounds of her agony so she didn't wake up her son, in his bedroom next door. _

_Dennis, as gaunt and exhausted as she was, dabbed at her sweaty forehead with one of his shirts. It wasn't wet. The only water within walking distance was a river, and Dennis suspected it was tainted, as several animals had died after drinking from it. They had to go further to get to a safe water source, and he couldn't risk leaving Mary and Derek at the moment. Not now._

_Mary hardly noticed the lack of relief, however. She was too focused on trying to safely bring their new child into the world. Derek's birth had been so much easier, but then, that was Before. _

_Truthfully, they were extremely lucky that he had survived. Only eighteen months old when the bombs dropped, most children his age, and many older, had died of radiation sickness, if they weren't killed by the bombs or machines. Their farmhouse's rural location and Dennis' knowledge from his days in the Marines, as well as Mary's nurse training, had saved their family's lives. So many others hadn't been remotely as fortunate as they were._

_Another contraction hit her again, making her groan against the fabric. As a young girl and a newly-wed, she had planned for at least four children. Hopefully with at least one girl. Being Derek's mother had been the happiest part of her life until Judgement Day. She had cheerfully left the hospital to devote her days to him. After the bombs had fallen, though, she had prayed desperately that she wouldn't get pregnant again. _

_She had no interest in bringing an innocent child into this broken world, filled as it was with grief and a daily struggle for survival. God, whom she no longer believed in, had not answered her prayers. She'd become pregnant once before between Derek and this baby, and couldn't fully regret the miscarriage. It had been agonisingly painful, both mentally and physically, but she didn't want to raise a child in this world, nor did they really have the resources for it. _

_Bad enough that Derek was eight-years-old and already accompanying his father when he went hunting in the increasingly-bare woods nearby. Infant mortality was high, nowadays. Mary thought that seeing a child live, only to lose it, might be the straw that broke the camel's back on her sanity._

_She exhaled as best she could despite the gag, and rested her head against the wall as the contraction faded. The last time she had given birth, she had been in a hospital, with her husband by her side as she swore at him and clutched his hand tightly enough to break it. Her mother had flown over from Kerry and she'd been full of painkillers. A doctor who'd attended her throughout the whole pregnancy. This was a sharp contrast._

_She was on her bed at home, with a ragged towel that, despite being ruined by the messy business that was labour, they would have to keep. She had nothing to dull the pain, and her mother was probably dead, along with her father. Her only comfort was her husband's presence at her side, whispering encouragement into her ear._

"_You can do this, Mary," he murmured, pecking her damp hair. He checked her progress and gave her a tense grin that didn't reach his eyes. "I see the head," Dennis informed her. "It's time to push."_

'_I don't want to' Mary thought to herself. 'Children don't deserve this. They're innocent. God, please, if you're real, spare my child. Please.' A tear slipped out of her eye, sliding down her cheek and leaving a streak in the dirt smudged on it, before her attention was stolen by another, vicious contraction._

"_You have to push Mary!" Dennis urged her frantically, panicked by her lack of reaction and dull gaze. _

_The urgency in his voice made her instincts take over and she found herself pressing down, her groans almost continuous. Finally, her efforts were rewarded as she felt a form slip out of her body. She smiled weakly as she was greeted by a baby's cries._

"_It's a boy!" Dennis laughed. He wore the same amazed smile he'd had when he had first laid eyes on Derek. Mary craned her neck to see that he was holding their new son gently in his arms. She thought that he was smaller than his older brother had been, but despite that and her rough pregnancy, he was obviously strong. He flung his small limbs around in his father's grasp, and Mary felt her smile broaden. She'd been so afraid she would have a stillbirth, or that the baby would die soon after birth. But her fears melted away as she reached out so that Dennis could hand over her new son and she could cradle him to her chest._

"_Hello Kyle," she whispered to him. "I'm so glad that you're here."_

* * *

_**San Francisco Police Headquarters, **__**October 16th (mid-morning), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

Sarah was running at O'Brien's heels, when she heard a woman's voice with an Irish accent, calling from nearby and drawing her attention.

"Kyle!" a woman with dark red hair cried. One hand clutched at the handbag dangling off her shoulder while the other was reaching out for the young boy who was peeking out the door. "Get back here!"

Sarah stopped at the sound of the name and turned to look at the family, huddled together in the conference room. She looked at the small boy, recognizing the features and the wide blue-grey eyes, filled with an innocence the Reese she knew didn't have.

"Sarah?" O'Brien asked, bemused at her abrupt stop.

She glanced back at him for a second, before making her decision. That was Kyle, regardless of the strangeness of it all. After everything he had done for her and her son, she couldn't abandon him. Any version of him.

She started towards the conference room, calling over her shoulder to her companion.

"Get John and Reese. I'm right behind you." O'Brien nodded and rushed away, while Sarah jumped into the room, giving a fierce look to the family.

"Come with me if you want your son to live," she ordered.

"Who-?" Reese's father began.

"The building is under attack," Sarah interrupted. "Come on! Quickly!"

The Reeses exchanged quick looks before they nodded. Kyle's father shoved his wife and son ahead of him, Sarah leading the way.

She guided them to an emergency stairwell, shoving the door open and waving them on ahead of her. "Get in your car and go," she instructed them urgently, casting a worried look towards the sounds of gunshots.

"Okay," Mrs. Reese agreed breathlessly as she passed her by. Sarah didn't answer, sending a worried look towards the ceiling as more gunshots sounded. The Reeses stopped on the landing, the adults suddenly realizing that young Kyle hadn't started down the stairs. He was stock-still, his lip trembling faintly as he clutched tightly to the railing.

"Kyle!" Mrs. Reese called, reaching for her son.

"Come here, son," his father urged him. Kyle, ghostly pale from fear, shook his head, refusing to move.

Sarah suddenly knew what she had to do, and she crouched down in front of him, grabbing his palm and tracing a line across it as she spoke. "Kyle," she said firmly, fixing her eyes on his. "You _can_ do this. A straight line. You just go, and you don't look back. Got it?"

"Y, yes," he croaked, nodding jerkily.

She gave him a proud smile and ruffled his hair even as she pushed him in his parents' direction. Mrs. Reese grabbed hold of him and kept him close to her side as her husband led the way towards the door at the bottom of the staircase, Kyle glancing back up at Sarah as they went. Sarah stayed in place, watching to make sure they escaped. As Mr. Reese was tugging open the door to the outside, Sarah began backing towards the door they'd entered through. The minute the door shut behind them she turned and ran back into the hall, heading for the sounds of gunfire.

"John! Pops! Reese!" she called as she sprinted through the halls, snatching up a handgun from a body as she went. "O'Brien!"

"Sarah! Mom!" she flung herself around the corner, sighing in relief at the sight of her son, Reese and O'Brien. The detective blinked in confusion at John's call.

"How could she be-?" he began to ask, but Sarah cut him off quickly.

"Not the time. Have you seen Pops?"

Reese shook his head. "No, but the lower floors are blocked off by police and feds. O'Brien says there's a helicopter on the roof. We can escape using it."

"We still need to get the bombs," Sarah pointed out.

"I know where they are," O'Brien assured her. "Come with me, I'll show you."

He took them to an armoury, and quickly input the code while they waited anxiously. They hurried inside and O'Brien went to retrieve their bag of weapons while Sarah and her guys grabbed guns and loaded them.

He threw the bag of bombs on the table between them. "That's yours, too, I believe," O'Brien said dryly, just before the other door crumpled inward.

Sarah, John and Kyle all aimed the weapons they held towards it, relaxing a minute later when Pops stepped inside.

"Nice to see you," the terminator greeted them.

Sarah sighed in relief before holding a gun out to him. "Pops," she acknowledged. "Load up."

They dispersed around the room to take any weapons that looked useful. Pops pulled some strange, white bullets out of a cardboard box.

"Liquefied magnetic shotgun shells," he declared, taking them, before pulling two more weapons Sarah didn't recognize out. "Magnetic Rifle Entry Munition. I read about this on ."

. Sarah had no idea what that was, but it sounded like something she'd like.

"That's the new breacher," O'Brien stated. "Big blast, no shrapnel. Blows a door clean off. You know, for people who can't do that themselves."

"Take all of it and let's get out of here," John called, pumping his AK-47 as Kyle tossed the bag of explosives over his shoulder. Sarah held an automatic in each hand, and she led the way to the door to the roof.

"We don't have much time," Reese warned them softly as they hastened out to the helicopter pad, O'Brien holding the door open for them. "Just over an hour to get to Cyberdyne, and less than two to destroy it."

The Connors gave identical grimaces and nodded in understanding.

"You're sure that you can fly this thing?" Sarah double-checked.

"Done it a thousand and one times," John replied positively. "And if necessary, Kyle can take over. I taught him a few years ago."

They said nothing more as they ran to the nearest of the two choppers, John swinging himself into the pilot's seat while Kyle climbed quickly into the co-pilot's. Pops and Sarah crouched in the back while the father and son pair flicked at switches and pressed buttons in a perfect synchronisation that spoke of years of working together.

"I'll tell 'em you took a car, heading south," O'Brien yelled to Sarah over the roar of the wind.

"Thank you," she said in response, all of her sincerity shining out of her face and voice.

He gave a quick nod then Pops spoke up.

"Run away," the terminator instructed the old police officer. O'Brien nodded quickly, blatantly intimidated. Just as he turned, however, the door swung open and Skynet came storming out, firing furiously at them.

O'Brien's eyes went wide, and he threw himself to the side, landing hard on the concrete ground. Skynet advanced towards them, firing continuously and ignoring the detective entirely.

"John, Reese, speed it up a little!" Sarah cried, taking cover behind the wall of the helicopter as she and Pops returned fire.

"Hang on!" Kyle called back, as John pulled on the controls and they began to lift up into the air.

They got off the ground, and the chopper turned onto its' side falling down towards the street below. Sarah stopped firing in order to grab hold of the straps hanging from the ceiling, holding onto them for dear life.

Then, just when she was becoming convinced that they were doing to crash and die, the chopper evened out again and began climbing up into the air.

"Which way to Cyberdyne?" Reese yelled over his shoulder.

"Head to the Bay Bridge, then southeast," Pops replied calmly.

"Fucking shit!" Sarah swore a moment later when the light shot out sparks and went out. The sound of bullets hitting the outside of the chopper. She glanced back, as neither of the men were in any position to check the outside, and cursed again. "Fuck, he got the other chopper! He's on our tail!"

A few moments later, alarms started going off.

"He hit the fuel!" John warned. "Another hit and we're going down!"

"You gotta get him off us!" Kyle called when the blades keeping them aloft were hit. John's jaw was set as he performed various dangerous maneuvres to try and shake their tail, doing his level best to avoid crashing in the process. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

They flew down so low they skimmed over the ground before the pair managed to force the helicopter up into the sky again, a tail of dark smoke flowing out behind them.

In the back, Sarah and Pops had readied their guns and began firing back at the AI. Sarah, ever-creative despite being raised by a robot, aimed mostly for Skynet's gun, helicopter controls, and the blades on top of his 'copter. Her aim was thrown off, however, by the continuous movements of their own chopper, and most of her and Pops' attacks ended up slamming harmlessly against the helicopter's metal walls.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. Reaching the climax now! Enjoy.**

**Chapter Nineteen**

_**Disneyland, Orlando: July 23**__**rd**__**, 1997 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes as she watched her son. He was obviously on cloud nine, so delighted with their holiday that his usual ability to read her mood had failed him. He seemed almost oblivious to the fact that she wasn't enjoying the trip to Disneyland. Then again, maybe he was so used to her being melancholy at best that he didn't really register it anymore._

_Still, Sarah was glad that she had organized their week-long trip to Orlando. They'd visited Epcot the day before, and seen the fireworks display and parade after dinner on Tuesday. Right now, they were waiting in line to go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. While they waited, John flipped through the brochure and map with a pen, underlining what attractions he wanted to see or revisit before the end of their trip on Friday._

_She reached out and stroked a lock of hair back out of his face before running her hand through his dark-blonde hair. _

_He glanced up at her, eyebrow crinkling in concern. "Is everything okay, Mom?" he asked her._

_Maybe he wasn't so oblivious to her dark mood, after all. Hopefully not. She wanted him to enjoy his trip. Sarah would keep her knowledge to herself._

"_Everything's fine, kiddo," she assured him. "I'm just really glad that you're having fun." It was well worth the extra jobs she had picked up (both legal and not) to pay for the vacation to see John acting like a giddy child, instead of the solemn soldier she had moulded him into for the sake of the world. _

_He flashed a bright grin at her, the one he had inherited from his father. The sight of it made her throat close over, and she quickly took a swig from her water bottle to hide the pain that flashed across her features._

_A month and six days. That was all the time that the world had left before it ended in a blaze of fire and screams. Sarah had done everything she could do try and stop it, and she had failed epically. She hadn't even managed to put it off until John was older, capable of forming and leading the resistance._

_She didn't know how or when she would die, but she was determined to survive Judgement Day. John wasn't ready to be on his own yet. His voice hadn't even cracked. Sarah had to hang on to life a while longer. Long enough to teach him the rest of what he needed to know to save the world._

_To that end, she had long-ago set up a bunker in Mexico. It was stocked heavily with warm, sturdy clothes, blankets, medical supplies (especially iodine tablets), gas masks, non-perishable food, weapons of all types and more. Anything that seemed remotely useful, Sarah had put in the bunker. There was a radar in it, too, so that she would be able to detect the nukes when they were launched._

_They were as prepared as she could get them in the time she'd had. Now all that was left was to wait out the apocalypse. But at least, when she was gone and John was alone against the world, he would be able to say that he had some happy memories of his life before the bombs dropped. He would need the good memories to keep himself going on._

"_Alright," the attendant for the ride called, jolting Sarah out of her grim thoughts. "Next group please." _

"_That's us!" John beamed, stowing his brochure in his backpack. "C'mon Mom!"_

_If she had done anything right in raising John, Sarah decided as she followed her son into the boat, it was not telling him the date of Judgement Day. He deserved to be free from that burden a little longer._

* * *

_**San Francisco: October 16th (early-evening), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

A truck fell on its side and exploded into flames, John mumbling a curse from the strength of the heat as he flew the helicopter straight through.

"We need to get higher in the air!" Kyle called to him, flicking switches and pressing buttons madly to try and keep the damaged aircraft stable.

John didn't reply, his jaw clenched tightly closed as he pulled on the toggle with all of his strength.

They managed to reach a decent height, and stayed there. With an unexpected (and rather suspicious) stroke of luck, they appeared to have temporarily lost Skynet in the flight. None of them doubted that it would show up again soon, however. Sarah kept glancing out of the side of the helicopter worriedly, searching for any sign of the enemy.

On her third check, she finally spotted Skynet's chopper again. Like their own, it was damaged, but not as severely. "I see it!" she cried. "It's gaining on us!"

"Kyle, remember San Diego?" John called.

"Yeah!" Kyle confirmed, giving a sharp nod.

"Ok, Mom, you need to distract so we can get above him, then Pops, you take 'im out. Got it?"

"I will do so, John Connor," Pops agreed, the only member of the group who wasn't filled with adrenaline or yelling.

"Got it!" Sarah called back at the same time. Even as she spoke she was rapidly preparing her rifle.

Plan confirmed, John guided the chopper into a sharp dive beneath the bridge. Kyle continued working to stabilize the helicopter. The pressure the craft was under was heavy, and he knew that if they didn't land soon, they would crash.

They left a trail of smoke in their wake as they surged up from beneath the bridge to get level with the opposing chopper.

As was typical for her in this type of situation, the world seemed to go into slow-motion for Sarah as she aimed her rifle at Skynet. There was a loud rushing sound in her ears as she pressed the trigger. Her aim was true, hitting the AI right in the forehead where a human's brain would be.

Through her sniper scope, she saw Skynet's head slam backwards with the force of the bullet, a hole forming where she'd hit the machine.

The sparks that flew from Skynet's head latched onto the various electrical equipment in its' cockpit, and the chopper swerved out of control as a fire began. The fire melted Skynet's false skin, adding further problems to its' attempts to keep control of its' stolen police helicopter.

It wasn't until Skynet's chopper was skimming the water that it managed to stabilize its' craft, and by then the Connors and their companions were far above.

"You got this?" Kyle called to Pops.

"Yes," the terminator replied evenly. He braced himself against the open doorway, glancing back at Sarah. "I'll be back," he announced.

"What?" she demanded sharply, a hint of alarm lacing her tone, just before her protector jumped out of the helicopter and began hurtling down towards their enemy. "Pops!" Sarah shrieked in panic, leaning out dangerously far to try and catch a glimpse of her guardian.

She watched in terror for him as the other helicopter burst into flames and tumbled over itself several times before finally crashing into a lake just in front of the Cyberdyne Industries building and sinking down.

The Connors and Kyle landed much more softly several minutes later, Sarah the first to hop out with her automatic rifle held ready to fire. John was second out, scanning the area for hostiles even as he pumped his own gun and reloaded. Kyle was last, grim-faced and determined with a bag full of explosives clutched tightly in his spare hand. His own gun was slung across his chest and he tossed the second bag to John.

"He's okay," Kyle told Sarah as she scanned the area, an anxious look in her sea-coloured eyes. "He may be at the bottom of the lake, but he's okay."

"What about Skynet?" she worried.

"Oh, I'm sure that Skynet'll show up sooner rather than later to reassure us," John replied dryly. "He wouldn't want us to be worrying about him, or anything."

Sarah snorted softly at the dark humour, before swiftly wiping all traces of amusement from her expression and setting her jaw. "We need to hurry," she urged.

They glanced grimly at the corpses that lay, shock and confusion on their faces, decorating the path that led up to the main doors.

"Do you see him?" Sarah asked her companions softly, looking in every direction for a hint of Skynet's presence.

"Nothing," John answered. His knuckles were white from holding his gun so tightly.

"You can bet he sees us, though," Kyle predicted, scanning the area tensely.

They entered into the reception area. It was dark, save for the bright countdown glowing on the opposite wall: 13 hours, 39 minutes and 38 seconds. Before their shocked eyes, however, the countdown disappeared and what looked like the shape of a young boy formed, stepping out of the screen. It was featureless, and glowed blue.

"I know who you are," the 'child' declared. "Alex told me. You want to destroy me."

"Who the hell is Alex?" Sarah mumbled.

"Skynet's alias," John answered softly. "But we'd better be prepared for there to be someone else on Skynet's side." His parents nodded solemnly, then returned their attention to the digital child, who had now developed hard-to-see facial features.

"You're Skynet?" Kyle confirmed. He, John and Sarah all had their guns aimed at the humanoid, but they could tell that shooting it would do no good. It was blatantly incorporeal.

"I'm_ becoming_ Skynet," Genisys corrected his statement.

Sarah glared at the figure, utter loathing in her gaze. "You're not a child," she spat venomously. "I know what you are, and what you're going to do."

"You're not innocent," John added, his own expression of hatred matching his mother's. "You killed everybody I care about! Not this time! I won't let it happen!"

"How very hypocritical," the 'child' replied evenly. "Saying that _I'm_ the killer, when you came here to kill me before I even did anything." Suddenly, he grew, looking more like a young preteen then a child. "But you're too late. Ask him."

Skynet, unharmed by its' violent crash, strode forward. Sarah was the first to fire, John seconds behind her and Kyle half-a-moment later, but the AI stalked forward, the bullets not even managing to deter it, despite the holes that formed in its torso.

"That's all you people know how to do," the machine asserted. "Kill what you don't understand. There aren't enough bullets in the world to kill _me_." It gestured dramatically to itself.

"Fuck!" John snarled under his breath, as his attempt to continue firing failed. He was out of ammo. Sarah and Kyle too ran out, right after.

They didn't have time to react, as even as Skynet began stalking towards them triumphantly, a long pole, mostly likely a lamp, crashed through the glass doors. The glass sprayed everywhere as Skynet went flying back from the force. Skynet crashed into the screen projecting Genisys' avatar and smashed it, while Skynet itself was pinned, twitching, to the wall.

"Skynet talks too much," Pops stated as he marched inside. He himself was rather worse for the wear, with scratches, torn clothes and some of his metal skeleton showing. Nonetheless, he was overall undamaged, and as calm and collected as always.

Sarah let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him. Even John and Kyle, despite their continuing distrust towards the cyborg, were relieved to see him.

"Follow me," Pops ordered, snatching up the bag of explosives that John had dropped so he could attack Skynet. The three humans hurried after him.

"The timer," Sarah said as they rushed through the sleek, modern halls. "It sped up. Why?"

"Genisys is evolving," Pops explained. "We no longer have hours. It will be able to upload much sooner. Each time it ages, the clock speeds up. This way."

"Wait, you've been here before?" Kyle asked, surprised.

"I was able to infiltrate the work crews in this facility," Pops informed them.

Sarah stared at him in disbelief. "You got a job in construction?"

"Until I was laid off," Pops confirmed.

She gave a bewildered look to Kyle and John, both of whom looked equally disturbed at the image in their minds of Pops working construction with a bunch of innocent, unaware humans. It was an strange one, to say the least.

The made their way down a stairwell, Pops leading the way confidently, and paused at a metal door long enough for him to kick it in. They glanced around as they entered the next room, only for John to freeze in place and swear violently at the sight that met his eyes.

"Fucking hell!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

**Chapter Twenty**

_**Former Colorado/Arizona border town: October 23**__**rd**__**, 1999 (original timeline)**_

_Sarah scanned the area carefully through narrowed eyes. Crouched behind her, each holding their guns at the ready, were John, Kate, and the twins. The girls had been with her and John for eighteen months now. Savannah, too sweet and young for this harsh new world, had been dead for three and a half. And, although she had said nothing to her son or the girls, Sarah doubted that she would be around for much longer either._

_She had noticed her increasing fatigue and weight-loss shortly before Judgement Day, and dismissed it as stress over the coming apocalypse. She'd stubbornly continued to ignore any other signs of problems up until she'd begun coughing up blood several months ago. Combined with lump that had formed on her breast, and Sarah knew what the diagnosis would be if she had seen a doctor._

_There was nothing else for it, however, except to press on for as long as she could, until she couldn't fight the inevitable anymore. She hadn't said a word to any of her kids, and she did her best to hide the symptoms from them. It would do nothing but upset and distract them._

_She wished things were different, but there was nothing that she could do. Death was a part of life, and Sarah had realized that a long time ago. Her only regret was that she was leaving John and the girls. They still needed her, but then, you never really stopped needing your parents. Sarah still missed her mom and dad sometimes, despite it being twenty and sixteen years since she'd lost them._

_A noise caught her attention, and she swiftly brought her gun around to aim in its' direction, hidden from view by a collapsed wall._

_A second later, her fear was confirmed when a pair of Model 1 Terminators marched out. Model 1s were a far cry from the T-800 that had terrorized her and the entirety of Los Angeles back in '84. They were clearly robots, with pure steel bodies and glowing red eyes that Allison had once said made them look demonic, an apt description. They moved slowly and heavily, and they were clumsy and loud. _

_But they were still lethal. Unless you hit exactly the right spot, weapons bounced right off of their metal skin. Their left arm was actually a gun, and their steel bodies meant that a single hit could send their victim flying through the air and break half of the bones in their body. Their 'bones' were sharper than most knives, and their weak points well-protected. They were equipped with infrared and night vision so that they could see practically anything, and they had sensors to detect movement around them._

_Sarah ducked down further behind their cover and turned to alert her charges using their hand signal. Allison clutched her gun in small hands that trembled with fear, Cameron shifted nearer to her sister, Kate bit her lip to stay quiet, and John clenched his jaw. All of them were aware of the seriousness of the situation. No longer could a child claim innocence, or to be unaware of death's finality. They understood now that the 'good' guys didn't always win._

_Sarah inhaled softly as she came up with a plan, then made a few more gestures. The kids' eyes widened, and they all urgently shook their heads. John grabbed her wrist, a pleading expression on his face. Sarah gave him a stern look and made a few more gestures._

'_Please' he mouthed at her. She smiled sadly and leaned in to press her lips to his dirty forehead._

"_I love you," she whispered into his hair, keeping her voice barely audible. "You __**will**__ win, we both know it. I'm so proud of you. __**Never**__ forget how much I love you, and how proud I am of you."_

_His lip wobbled and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he accepted what was happening._

_She pulled away from him, and gave the girls a proud smile. 'I love you' she mouthed to her foster daughters, because they deserved to know that as well. _

_Then she jumped over the wall and ran straight at the Terminators, firing furiously. They raised their guns/arms and fired back. Their accuracy wasn't the best, but she stumbled when one bullet hit her thigh, and again when another managed to hit her opposite shoulder. Despite that, she pressed forward, desperate to keep their attention on her while her children used the chance to escape._

_She ran out of bullets as she came within their reach, and she yanked her knife out of her belt. She jumped onto one and clambered over it determinedly until she was able to jam her knife into the base of its' neck. As it collapsed, its' CPU destroyed, she felt another bullet hit her. This time, in the lower back. The impact made her release her grip on the machine and fall onto her back on the hard, ice-covered ground. She felt herself jerk a moment later as the cyborg continued to fire into her body._

_She managed, with the last of her waning strength, to twist her neck around and look back in the direction she'd come from. In the distance, she could just see a flash of red hair. Kate, running away. And she would only go if the others were with her. _

_Sarah's lips twitched into a smile of satisfied relief as the image of her children's flight was replaced by a young man, aged by war and grief, kneeling on one knee and holding out a hand to her. His lips were quirked up at the side in a gentle smile that contrasted with his harsh upbringing, and his eyes were loving and gentle. She had missed that look so much over the years._

"_C'mon Sarah," Kyle urged her. "You've done more than enough. He'll be okay. They all will."_

"_I've missed you," she breathed, reaching out to take his hand as the world finally turned black._

* * *

_**Cyberdyne Industries: San Francisco: October 16th (mid-to-late-evening), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

"Fucking hell!" John snarled, glaring through the glass at the half-finished TDE in the centre of the room beyond it. "The damn thing built a time machine!"

"Not yet," Pops assured him without looking back. John and Kyle, who had stopped when John did, hurried to catch up with him and Sarah. "Only the magnetic quantum field is complete."

"Why would Skynet want a time machine?" Kyle wondered, brow wrinkled in thought.

"Who the fuck knows, but it can't be for anything good," Sarah replied darkly. She tightened her grip on her gun for comfort.

"The bombs'll take out the whole building," John reasoned, trying to comfort himself and his parents. "Meaning the time machine'll be wrecked as well. We have to make sure to destroy any research that's stored online though. It was a new thing in the 90s when J-Day happened, but from what I gathered at the hospital and police station it's common here."

"Indeed," Pops confirmed as he broke a keypad, forcing open the door. "I was able to acquire the necessary codes whilst working in the building, and they are stored both in my hard drive and in a notepad at Safehouse Delta."

Sarah nodded in recognition at the mention of the safehouse as they strode quickly into the room with the time machine.

Kyle glanced at the timer and grimaced. "At the rate that the timer's going, we'll never make it out of the building in time," he warned his companions grimly.

"Then we blow it anyway," Sarah declared without batting an eyelid.

"I agree," John nodded. "This mission can't be failed. No matter what the cost."

If they survived this, Kyle mused absently to himself, he'd need to stage an intervention or something. The Connors' lives revolved around fighting Skynet and the machines, even more than his did. He remembered how John hadn't known what to do once the War ended, and felt a jab of worry. It really wasn't healthy.

Pops began speaking, and Kyle pushed his thoughts aside to focus on the mission. First they needed to survive and destroy Skynet, then they'd work on...everything else.

"There is an alternative," Pops informed them. "I was able to program Sarah Connor's voice and handprint into the biometric security system. There is a safe room on the lowest level that we can access to survive the blast."

They began crossing over the miniature moat filled with polyalloy. Several machines were occasionally pulling humanoid forms out of the river-like substance and scanning it, before it dissolved again.

"What about that?" Sarah asked suspiciously, aiming her gun at it. "Is it dangerous?"

"Polyalloy requires programming to take permanent form," Pops explained. "Without the CPU, it is harmless."

"Good," John muttered. "Last thing that we need right now is an army of T-1000s attacking us."

"You better not have just jinxed us," Kyle grumbled, grimacing. John shot him a tentative grin, and he returned it, silently giving his forgiveness for the lies. He was still upset, but he understood.

They entered a large room filled with metal walkways, and stopped at a crossroads where they began dispersing the bombs among each other.

"How long?" Kyle demanded tensely.

"Skynet will upload in 11 minutes," Pops answered.

"What happened to the second detonator?" John demanded. "There's only one in here!"

"The police must've taken it or something," Sarah stated, her own voice tense with worry. They were silent for a moment than she shook her head.

"We still have one, so we'll deal," she decided. "We split up," she continued. "Stay in contact."

"Let's move," John finished. They each picked a different path and ran up it (Sarah climbed a ladder to get to the higher levels, while Kyle went down a floor, and Pops and John took their original landing). They rushed around the place installing the bombs as quickly as they could. Unfortunately, Genisys wasn't content to leave them in peace while they destroyed it.

Sarah finished attaching another bomb and turned, only to be met by the sight of Genisys' semi-transparent figure.

"Mankind pays lip service to peace," the AI stated. "But it's a lie."

"So your final solution is to kill us all?" Sarah sneered back. She raised her gun and shot out the camera projecting Genisys' form. "I don't think so." She turned and hurried away, contacting her group as she did so. "The countdown jumped again," she reported. "We're down to eight minutes."

Down two levels, Kyle was also installing a bomb when he heard Sarah's warning. A moment later, Genisys appeared in front of him. Kyle scowled.

"I won't allow this," Genisys declared.

"And what are you gonna do, talk us to death?" Kyle scoffed. He shot out the projector. "You don't even have a body."

Genisys appeared in front of Pops. "And you only have one detonator." The terminator didn't even glance at Genisys as he shot it out.

"You are a fool, John Connor," Genisys insisted, appearing in front of the general. "You could've ruled the world at my side, instead you waste your life on fighting an unstoppable war!"

"I am my mother's son," John shrugged. "My father's too. They're both very stubborn." He shot out the projection and continued on.

"You can't win," Genisys insisted to Sarah.

She paused and rolled her eyes, shooting it out again. Her annoyance quickly turned into panic when Genisys' figure disappeared and revealed Skynet's physical form, charging towards her. It looked enraged, and she promptly turned and ran for her life. She held the detonator tightly as she fled.

"I've got company!" she cried urgently into her mike as she ran from the psychotic AI.

"Give me the detonator!" Skynet bellowed as it chased after the young woman.

She turned around a corner, coming level with Pops and John, who had heard her call and come running to her defence. John stared at the scene in horror, feeling panic war with the soldier's mindset his mother had nurtured in him. He tried frantically to figure out a way to get all of them (or at least Sarah) out of the situation intact, but failed. His heart sank.

Sarah rammed into the railing she was running so fast, and she flung the detonator down into Pops' hands just in time. Even as it fell, Skynet grabbed her. Its' finger turned into claw, and she let out a cry of pain as it dug into her neck sharply.

Pops caught the detonator easily and flipped it over in his grip so that he could see the controls.

"Do it now Pops!" Sarah ordered him, retaining her reason and sense of urgency regarding the situation at hand despite the agony she was in. "AHH!" she screamed a moment later, as the claw extended further into her neck. John and Pops could see the blood welling up at her neck, dripping down onto her tight black corset-like shirt.

John was frozen in panicked horror, staring up at Sarah with wide, desperate eyes. He wasn't even sure if he was fully comprehending what was going on. The sight of Sarah being held hostage by Skynet was merging with his worst memory. He saw her age years, hair heavily laced with grey from stress and frown lines on her face. Instead of Skynet holding her, her body was jerking as a terminator fired bullets into her small form repeatedly.

"No," he mumbled, not even sure what he was denying. He hadn't expected this, foolish and naïve though it was. He'd been worried about _Kyle_ being killed. Not Sarah. "No," he repeated, this time a plea. "Not her. Please not her. Not again."


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. This it guys, the climax. I hope you enjoy it. R&Ring is encouraged.**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_**Mexico: August 29**__**th**__**, 1997-Judgement Day (original timeline)**_

_The sound of her radar staring to beep urgently distracted Sarah from her rhythmic cleaning of her guns. Tension was radiating from her body, and her jaw and spine were both taut with nerves. She was sure that they were safe in their small bunker, but guilt clawed at her whenever her thoughts drifted to those who didn't have any bunker to retreat to._

_Despite that guilt, she hadn't offered to share her and John's shelter with anybody except for the Salcedas, who had refused. The family did have a fully-stocked underground storm shelter though, and Sarah prayed it would be enough to save them. _

_But her supplies were limited, and she wouldn't, couldn't, risk John. Not just because he was the future saviour of humanity, but because he was her __**son**__. Her boy. The reason she bothered to keep on living after everything she had seen and done._

"_Mom," John croaked, staring pale-faced at the radar. "Is it-" he trailed off, naked terror on his face._

_Sarah tried to keep her cool as she stood and went over to check the radar. "Don't worry, it's just a plane," she assured him calmly, before throwing a bottle of water to her son. "Have a swig of that," she ordered. "You'll get dehydrated if you don't drink more."_

_Although dehydration from heat would be less of a concern after today, she added grimly in her mind. The bombs had been released, and were flying all over the world now. The end had finally come._

_In a twisted way, it was almost a relief that it was finally happening. Sarah had spent so long preparing for Judgement Day, and now it had finally come. The coldest, most spiteful part of her smirked bitterly and aimed a mental 'I told you so' towards the many people she had warned and who had dismissed her as insane over the years._

_John's eyes were still wide with worry and his hand shook as he pulled the top off and took a drink of the water. His eyebrow then crinkled in bemusement for a second before realization, followed swiftly by accusation, appeared on his face. "You drugged," he began to say, only for the heavy sedative to begin kicking in and make him stumble._

_Sarah hurried over and caught him before his legs gave out, hauling him over to his campbed and laying him down on top of it. She stroked his bangs out of his face as he drifted off. "Just sleep," she whispered to him. "It'll all be over when you wake up. I love you, kiddo."_

_She stood back up when he had fully fallen asleep. She had long since decided to drug John into unconsciousness during the bombings. There was no need for him to witness that. She wouldn't be able to protect him from anything else, but she could protect him from seeing this at least. Many other parents wouldn't be as fortunate._

_Steeling herself, she went over to the small TV in the corner and fiddled with the satellite on top until she managed to bring up a news channel. She didn't want John to see this, but she felt the morbid need to witness it herself. _

_The screen showed New York City, the camera obviously abandoned as everybody ran around like headless chickens in panic. In the sky a missile could be seen heading straight for the Empire State Building. Sarah wrapped her arms around herself as she spotted a small girl lying on the ground beside a woman who must've been her mother. The child's neck was clearly broken, and people were running over her corpse in their attempts to escape._

_The missile crashed into the building, and a large, mushroom shaped cloud began forming. People screamed in horror, parents flinging themselves over their children or dragging them away in desperate and futile attempts to save them. The screen turned black._

_Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes as she collapsed to her knees. "I'm sorry," she whimpered to the world, everybody who was now suffering because of her failure to stop Skynet's creation. "I'm so sorry. I tried. I'm sorry."_

_She stayed there, crying and apologizing, until John began to stir from his sleep. It was the last tears she ever shed._

* * *

_**Cyberdyne Industries: San Francisco: October 16th (late-evening), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

Pops looked between Sarah, struggling in Skynet's embrace, John desperately shaking his head and the detonator.

"I cannot," the terminator finally admitted. "I cannot kill Sarah Connor."

"You have to!" Sarah cried. "I order you!"

"If you kill her Skynet, Pops presses it!" John yelled to his nemesis, trying to buy time.

Skynet frowned. "You do have a point," he mused. "So we are at an impasse, then."

"Do it Pops, John!" Sarah pleaded.

"I can't lose you twice," John replied brokenly, just as Kyle came bolting around the corner, calling Sarah's name.

He took in the situation with a quick glance, aiming his gun towards Skynet but not daring to shoot with Sarah in the way.

"Reese the detonator!" Sarah shouted.

"Kyle no!" John countered a second later.

Sarah screamed in pain again a second later, giving Kyle a pleading look. John wore the same expression, shaking his head. Pops had a solemn look as he held the detonator out. John jerked but didn't intervene when Kyle abruptly lunged for it.

As much as John wanted to save Sarah, and though he couldn't bring himself to do the act himself, he was too much of a soldier to ruin their entire plan for his own personal reasons.

But as Kyle dived for the detonator, Skynet dissolved and his particles flew down to intercept. He reformed, grabbing hold of Pops' outstretched hand, and sending the old T-800 flying into a wall. They began fighting furiously, while the humans regrouped.

Sarah forced herself up from where Skynet had pushed her to the floor, and hurried to the nearest ladder, clamping a hand over her bleeding shoulder to stem the flow.

"Sarah! Mom!" she heard John and Kyle calling for her, right before they ran into view. John didn't pause, scooping her into a tight hug.

"Thank god," he mumbled as he pulled back. "I couldn't-" he began to say, but Sarah waved him off. She had lost her parents as well. She couldn't imagine how painful it must've been for John, to think that he was about to lose her, so soon after getting her back.

"I get it," she stated simply.

"The detonator's destroyed," Kyle cut in. He felt a bit bad about it, but his focus was on the mission. They could still hear the sounds of Pops and Skynet fighting each other, but the clock was ticking down quickly.

"There's gotta be another way," Sarah insisted. "C'mon!"

"I've got an idea," John told them as they ran in the direction of the fighting.

"Tell us," Sarah ordered him.

"The TDE," he explained quickly. "Pops said that the quantum field generator is working. If we can overload it, just turning it on and then shooting the right place will work, it'll cause an overload which'll lead to an explosion. Then that'll ignite our own bombs. It'll destroy the place entirely."

"Where do we aim?" Kyle asked.

John quickly gave out the instructions, just before they ran up to a door to the TDE room. Unfortunately, it shut automatically, just before they could get through. They only just caught a glimpse of Pops being thrown to the floor by the superior form of Skynet.

"NO!" Sarah yelled. "NO! Pops!"

While she banged on the doors, John and Kyle glanced around, searching for a way to force open the doors. Behind them, Genisys appeared again. It now looked the same as Skynet's physical body, as appearing to be a man in his mid-twenties.

"I understand how to control this place," the AI declared, filled with smug superiority. "I understand a lot of things now. _You_ need to understand. You've lost."

"Not yet, we haven't," Kyle replied defiantly. "Come on!" he called to his companions, beginning to run off.

He grabbed a small bomb off its column as they passed, while John and Sarah reloaded their guns.

"Shaped charge," he explained as they hurried to the other nearby entrance. "Big enough to get us in, small enough not to kill us."

"I really hope there a god, and that he's on our side, otherwise we're screwed," John informed them as they reached the door.

Kyle hurriedly placed the explosive on the door and then stepping back and aiming. Kyle automatically positioned himself to shield Sarah from the impending explosion.

To their frustration, Genisys appeared again, scowling now. "This is pointless," it snapped. "I am inevitable!"

"Hurry!" John urged his parents, ignoring Genisys.

"My existence is inevitable," Genisys insisted. "Why can't you just accept it?"

Kyle paused as he aimed his gun at the bomb. "Because we're human," he stated steadily, before shooting it and making the bomb explode, destroying Genisys' form.

"Primates evolve over millions of years," they heard Skynet monologue as they stealthily made their way to where the two machines were fighting on the dais. "Genisys is evolving in seconds. And it is _here_. In exactly four minutes, it will be _everywhere_. You have failed, and I have finally triumphed over Sarah Connor!"

The three humans frowned in bemusement at that, then pushed it from their thoughts to think about later. Kyle grabbed Pops' arm, before they dashed to the stairs, the men and Sarah separating to do their parts.

"You are nothing but a relic from a deleted timeline," Skynet hissed at Pops. "You are not strong enough to defeat me."

"Not alone," Pops muttered, his head turned enough that he could see Sarah climbing the steps, anger on her expression and wielding her trusty shotgun.

"Skynet!" she yelled, grabbing its' attention. Fury formed on its' face when it saw her. "You haven't _triumphed over me_," she repeated its' earlier claim mockingly. "And you never will!"

Skynet stalked towards her. "When will you ever stop this pointless defiance?" he demanded bitterly. "So many timelines, and you always fight me! Why?"

Sarah sneered at him. "Because I'm human," she echoed Kyle, just before John and Kyle attacked the AI in unison. Kyle walloped the machine with Pops' arm, while John shot at it with his AK-47.

"Now Sarah!" Kyle called to her.

The young woman began steadily shooting out the controls of the TDE, beginning to overload it. Pops, meanwhile, was struggling to force himself back to his feet to go to her aid.

Just as John ran out of bullets, Pops slammed his hand, which was encased in the magnet he had just managed to retrieve while the others distracted their enemy, through Skynet's torso. He lifted the other cyborg over his head, proving his great strength, and began marching into the centre of the dais. Alarms were beginning to sound as the power of the machine overloaded from Sarah's efforts.

Once he was in the middle of the time machine, Pops slammed Skynet's body down onto the floor, pinning it there with visible effort. "Kyle Reese," he ordered. "Activate the field generator."

Sarah's eyes widened in horror and she desperately shook her head. "No, Pops, not with you inside," she pleaded. "You know what will happen." Kyle darted past her to start pressing the buttons quickly, while John grabbed hold of Sarah's undamaged arm and began to tug her way. She fought his efforts, still begging her guardian through sobs.

"Pops... Pops, please! Please, Pops!"

"Genisys is almost free," Pops informed her solemnly. The TDE was glowing, and light was beginning to shine. "I cannot hold Skynet much longer." He turned to look at Kyle, who had left the controls and wrapped his arms around Sarah's middle, lifting her up to physically carry her away, something that John, who was also injured, couldn't do.

"Kyle Reese," he said, fixing his eyes on the soldier's. "protect my Sarah." Kyle looked grave as he nodded, silently vowing to do so.

"No!" Sarah shrieked, struggling against Kyle as he pulled her away. "No! No! No, Pops, no! No! Pops! No! No!"

They watched the two terminators be picked up by the quantum field, blue lightning flickering around them.

Kyle forced Sarah to look at him. "Sarah!" he snapped, before softening. "It's the only way. Come on."

Her expression was broken as she glanced back one last time, before reluctantly giving in and starting to sprint towards the nearest elevator.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. This is it, folks. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it. Please tell me what you thought of it, and check out my The Terminator: Reboot, too.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_**Cyberdyne Industries: San Francisco: October 16th (late-evening), 2017 (alternate timeline)**_

They raced into the closest lift, bouncing with adrenaline as they waited impatiently for it to arrive on the basement floor. They dashed out as soon as the doors had separated enough to let them through, Sarah at the front, raising her hand in preparation as they rushed down the corridor. They could hear the roar of the approaching flames and feel their heat as she slammed her hand down on the scanner.

"Scanning," a mechanical voice stated emotionlessly. "Identify yourself."

"Sarah Connor," Sarah barked out, making the light turn green and the heavy metal door unlock.

They scrambled inside and worked together to push it closed behind them. It shut just as the fire reached them, the force of the fire's impact denting the metal.

Kyle sighed in relief, his shoulders slumping, but the Connors were less inclined to relax. Sarah grabbed a screwdriver left in the corner, perched on a metal box and began working at the electronic lock while John crouched at the hinges with a knife in hand, trying to pry them off.

"We have to get out of here," Sarah stated, her voice tense with unacknowledged grief. "We have to find him."

John stiffened, but didn't remove his attention from his work at the hinges.

Kyle, however, turned to her. He bit his lip, feeling pained. He had lost his resentment towards Pops, and was genuinely sorrowful, more for Sarah than any other reason, at Pops' loss. Sarah's desire to go and find her surrogate father reminded him vividly of his own attempts to go back for fallen comrades.

"Sarah, he's gone," Kyle told her gently, squatting beside her. He continued when she failed to react, worried he'd been too harsh despite trying to break the news as gently as he could. "He's..."

"Dead?" she cut him off briskly. "Yeah, I know that. I mean, we leave no part of him behind. It's too dangerous."

Her head was bent to keep her emotions from showing, but Kyle see the faint tremble in her limbs as she tried to hide her grief.

"He loved you," Kyle stated, remembering the terminator's treatment of Sarah. He hadn't believed it was possible before meeting Pops, but Kyle knew what a parent's love looked like, and Pops had it for her. The T-800 might have been a machine, but it was a machine with a deep caring for the girl it had raised for almost a decade.

Sarah's shoulders slumped, and she raised her head to meet his gaze. His heart broke for her when he saw that her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Anyone who loves me," she choked out. "All of them, they die."

"Not all of them," Kyle refuted her firmly. "Not this time."

John finally abandoned the hinges and came over to them. He reached out to touch Sarah's leg. "I'm still here," he reminded her. "So is Kyle. You're not on your own, Mom. One way or another, we're in this together."

Kyle glanced between the two Connors, recalling John's response to his question about what he would do once the war was over.

"Hey," he said firmly, drawing their attention. "You two need to understand something. Skynet is _gone_. You're free. For the first time, you can choose the life you want. Any life you want. No more Mother of the Resistance, or the Prophet.

The only thing you two need to do now is be Sarah and John Connor. It's all _your_ choice now, not destiny's."

John stared rather blankly at him, lifting a hand to run it over his cropped hair. Sarah's lip wobbled and she wore a look of hopelessness and pleading as she spoke what both she and John were thinking.

"And what if we don't know how to do that?"

Kyle was silent for a minute, thinking. Then he sighed and shrugged, giving them a rueful grin. "Well, since we're about to run out of air, I'd say you don't need to worry about it."

Sarah gave a watery chuckle, and John half-smirked, but their temporary amusement disappeared a second when they heard a loud bang at the door.

They hastily scrambled up and into defensive positions, raising their empty guns.

The door crumpled inward with a loud crash, revealing an undefinable form in the frame. They braced themselves, fearing the worst-case scenario had come true and Skynet had survived the explosion.

Then the machine stepped forward.

"Hello, Sarah Connor," Pops, looking not just repaired, but even better than before their fight, greeted his charge.

"Pops!" Sarah cried, her expression lighting up with relief and happiness as she shoved past Kyle to embrace her loyal protector.

"Unbelievable," Kyle muttered to John. "Is the damn thing indestructible?"

"Seems like it," John replied. "Saves us cleaning up after it, though."

"I thought you were dead," Sarah was saying while her son and his father whispered to each other.

"No," Pops denied. "Just upgraded."

"What about Skynet?" John demanded, brow crinkling with worry. "Could it have survived too?"

Pops shook his head. "Skynet's constituent parts could not have survived the blast."

"Well then," Kyle spoke up, drawing everybody's attention. "That means there's only one thing left to do."

"What?" Sarah asked, bemused.

Kyle gave a half-smile as he explained.

* * *

_**Reese Family Home, California: October 17**__**th**__**, (midday) (alternate timeline)**_

"I'll go talk to him first," Sarah suggested, as the group surveyed the young boy who was bent over a bright red bicycle with a large Labrador beside him. "He met me yesterday, so he might trust me a bit."

"A young woman who helped save him and his parents is a lot more trustworthy than a random guy he doesn't know," John agreed. It was wrong that somebody's appearance affected the way they were treated, but it did. The Sarah he'd grown up with had taken advantage of how _un_suspicious a young, pale-skinned single mother was many times over his childhood.

Sarah left the guys standing by the old oak tree and made her way over to the young, innocent version of Kyle.

"Easy, boy," the kid was saying, trying to calm his suddenly distressed dog. "What is it?"

"Hey, Kyle," Sarah called, drawing his attention.

He was clearly surprised to see her, but not upset. "Hey," he greeted her casually. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him. "A friend of mine really needs to talk to you, if that's okay."

Kyle blinked and shrugged in acceptance. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed.

"Thank you," she smiled at him, before walking away, passing her own version of Kyle as she rejoined her group.

"I like her," young Kyle told his older self thoughtfully.

Kyle grinned at his alternate. "Yeah, me, too," he agreed. He didn't let the strangeness of the situation affect him, instead treating young Kyle like any kid. He ducked down to the boy's level and met his gaze seriously.

"Now, this is going to sound kind of strange, but there's something I need you to remember," he informed him. "A message."

"Who do I tell?" young Kyle asked.

"Yourself," Kyle replied simply. "Over and over. Are you ready? It goes like this. Remember Genisys is Skynet."

Over by the tree, Sarah and Pops were watching the two versions of Kyle interact. John had returned to the car. He'd been thrown all over the place and travelled in time twice in only a few days. The general was exhausted, and he had more than earned the chance to rest and take it easy for a while.

"Kyle Reese is a good man," Pops commented, side-eyeing his ward.

Sarah crossed her arms under her breast, studying Reese thoughtfully. A small smile played on her lips. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "He really is."

Kyle left his younger self, who promptly returned to his bike, and returned to them. Pops walked back towards the car while Kyle stopped in front of Sarah, looking down at her.

"So what now?" he asked.

Sarah met his gaze, her expression filled with resolve. "You were right," she told him. "I can choose."

Kyle's confused look turned to hope as she reached up to pull him down to meet her lips. He didn't dare to move or breath in case it would wake him from the dream he was in as their lips met in a kiss.

* * *

_**Denver, Colorado: August 18**__**th**__**, 2020 (alternate timeline)**_

John was relieved to escape the house to go to the vet with Layla, their German Shepherd. As much as he loved his mother, she was high maintenance at the best of times. Now, at five months pregnant, there was a high possibility that she would shoot them all if they breathed too loudly.

John suspected that the only reason she hadn't was that the FBI had only stopped searching for them a little over eighteen months ago, and she didn't want to risk restarting their manhunt.

It had come as a shock when Sarah's latest ultrasound had revealed that she was not, as they had expected, carrying this timeline's version of John Connor. Instead, she was having a girl. They were all pleased though, taking it as proof that the timeline was a completely new one, without the pain and horror of the previous one.

Marina Adele Reese would be born into an unusual, but whole, family, in an unbroken world.

John parked in the car park and pushed away his thoughts. He could revel in his delight at how brilliantly things had turned out later. Right now, Layla had a pin stabbed through her front left paw, and he needed to get it sorted.

He lifted the whimpering dog out of the backseat and carried her into the reception area, putting her down on the floor where she promptly curled up into a protective ball. While Layla licked at her paw, trying to soothe it, John headed up to the reception.

The secretary, a cheerful elderly woman from Texas named Elizabeth, greeted him happily. "Hullo again, John," she said brightly. "How's it goin'? How's Sarah?"

"Plotting genocide of the entire male population, I think," he replied ruefully. "Four months is way too long. That baby needed to come _weeks_ ago."

Elizabeth laughed at that. "Just remember, John," she said to him. "That after the baby's born, there's late-night feedings, colic, teething."

John groaned in anticipation. "I need to move out," he half-joked, half-declared.

Elizabeth smirked and shrugged. "God makes 'em cute so you don' strangle 'em," she stated sagely, before changing the topic. "So, what's the story with Layla?"

"Stepped on a loose pin," John explained. "We're doing up the nursery and she wandered in."

Elizabeth nodded and typed something into the computer on her desk. "Alright then," she chirruped when she finished. "Doctor Brewster'll see you in a minute when she's done."

"Doctor Brewster?" John repeated, suddenly feeling as if all the air in the room had been sucked away. "What happened to Jackson?"

"Nothing, but the town's grown and he's gettin' on in years," Elizabeth explained with a shrug. "He needed some help, and Doctor Brewster is highly praised in the field. No need to worry abou' your girl, she's in good hands."

"I'm sure," John agreed, finishing off the conversation and sitting down. His knee bounced up and down nervously as he argued silently with himself.

It _couldn't_ be her. Not his Doctor Brewster. Kate had been a doctor, not a vet. Though that was more due to circumstances than choice. Kate had always that-

But no, Brewster was a common enough name, surely? And just because Kate had always said that, if not for J-Day, she would've become a vet, didn't mean this was her. It couldn't be.

"Mister Connor?" a voice he would've recognized in any life called.

John summoned all of his strength and raised his head to look.

Standing in the doorframe and holding a clipboard was Katherine Brewster, the love of his life.


End file.
